


My Summer Sunshine

by MissGryffindor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 175,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGryffindor/pseuds/MissGryffindor
Summary: Sansa Stark returns home for a summer with her family feeling more than a little disillusioned with the South.  Her brother's best friend, Jon Snow, is interning with Sansa at her father's legal firm for the summer and looking to prove himself worthy of a career in his chosen profession.  As they tackle changes in their lives, both Jon and Sansa find a little summer sunshine in an unexpected place - each other.





	1. Home

Sansa Stark set the book down on the table next to her and redirected her attention to the countryside flashing by. Her train had left King’s Landing early that morning and it was now approaching hour thirteen of her journey. It wouldn’t arrive at Queenscrown until almost midnight, but the last stop had been Torrhen’s Square and Sansa knew it wouldn’t be that much longer until they reached Wintertown. 

Daylight lingered long up here in summer – far longer than in the South – affording Sansa the opportunity to appreciate the lush green gardens that would, in a few short months, be covered in the deep snows of winter. Homestead after homestead could be seen for a while, before giving way to vast, open expanses of nothing but fields and forests. 

She appreciated the calmness of her First Class carriage. The passenger numbers had dwindled around the time they’d passed through the Riverlands and she hadn’t shared her table since the last of her companions disembarked at Barrowton, not long after they crossed the Neck. It would be a full and hectic summer and Sansa appreciated the peaceful solitude of her journey after the busy loneliness she’d encountered in King’s Landing over the previous twelve months or so.

Sansa glanced again at the book she had set down. _Bael the Bard: Myths and Romance in Northern Literature_. It was a book she’d encountered briefly in her final year at Wintertown High. Back then, Sansa had overlooked it disdainfully, dreaming of all the _Southron_ literature she’d be able to study at KLU. What a fool she had been. A romantic fool, but a fool nonetheless. 

After a year in which she felt increasingly homesick and alienated from both her choice of course and fellow students, Sansa had taken the books she no longer needed (finally, after completing her second year she was free of compulsory electives) to a thrift store she knew some of the scholarship students frequented. It was there she had seen the Bael book. 

Sansa no longer looked at this book disdainfully, but instead regarded it as an old friend she had somehow lost touch with. She’d quietly bought it and packed it away in her carry-on luggage for the trip home to Wintertown for the summer holidays. Three whole months in which she would be home and free to indulge in a love for Northern literary traditions she had all but forgotten.

Most of her things had headed home in boxes Harclay Haulage had picked up the night before her train. Sansa had the option to fly home, but when her mother had spoken about booking plane tickets……..the romance of this train journey appealed to Sansa. It had given her time to think clearly, free as she was from both home and college. 

Sansa had been perusing the online syllabus at WHU idly between King’s Landing and Rosby. By Maidenpool, she had e-mailed the Admissions Secretary, Marna Locke, to enquire about the possibility of a transfer. Her elder brother, Robb, had just completed his first year as a post-grad there. White Harbour was close to home, but still far enough away that Sansa felt she wasn’t exactly running home to her parents at the first sign of trouble. 

At WHU, Sansa would be able to act on the love she had for her homeland and its history. She would be able to return to her roots and hopefully fill the hole that had been tearing away at her insides for so long now. 

Sansa yawned, remembering her dawn start, and marked the page in her book. She could finish it tonight, or over the next few days. Her mother no doubt had plans for the two of them after the separation they’d endured since Easter. Arya would be starting college next semester, but would remain in Wintertown, and so there was little to do in terms of organising her move. Sansa wasn’t sure if her sister’s decision to remain so close to home was down to their Fencing reputation, continued proximity to her boyfriend, Gendry, or a little bit of both. Arya would never admit it, but Sansa suspected the latter. 

Gendry was sweet. He adored Arya and treated her like a princess. Sansa had not been so lucky when it came to the offspring of Robert Baratheon, their father’s oldest friend. Where Gendry was kind and considerate, Joffrey had been cruel and spiteful. Where Gendry had the level head of a young man brought up by a single mother who taught him right from wrong, Joffrey had inherited the wealth and ambition of his socialite mother’s kin, the Lannisters.

She’d expected another Gendry when her father had mentioned one day that Robert’s son would be enrolling in her class at KLU, and Sansa should look him up. Sansa had, in retrospect, taken her father’s advice on that one occasion she really should’ve ignored it. She’d fallen into his circle and then his arms. Prickly arms they were, she soon found, as prickly as his temper. 

For months, Sansa had endured silently the taunts and jests Joffrey landed upon her. She hadn’t wanted to worry her parents, who had fretted over her moving so far away (hence, perhaps, the suggestion she seek out Robert’s son), and after being the darling of Wintertown High, Sansa had found life different there. It had been a strange transition from being a large fish in a small pond to being a small fish in the largest pond she had ever encountered. 

Fiddling with the sports cap on the juice bottle she’d purchased from the dining carriage, Sansa closed her eyes and recalled Joff’s wormy lips as he framed those insults she’d come to know and expect. The light pinches he had passed off as foreplay. When she’d finally found the strength to leave him it had quickly become clear just how much _their_ _friends_ were really _his_ _friends_. 

“This train is for Queenscrown”, came a voice Sansa had become accustomed to. “The next stop is Cerwyn. Would all passengers disembarking at this stop please remember to take their luggage and rubbish with them when leaving this train.”

_Cerwyn_. That name brought such delight to Sansa’s heart. It meant the next stop would be _Wintertown_. 

_Home_. 

Sansa was looking forward to it more than she ever had. The last year and a bit had been so, so lonely for her. Well, other than when she’d been at home. At first she’d been nervous her father would be disappointed at her split with Joffrey, but Arya had been quick to assure her that was not the case – their father had known soon after a surprise visit to King’s Landing that Joffrey was no Gendry – but when she reconnected with her school friends and siblings and attended Robb’s graduation, it had calmed her somewhat. 

Back in King’s Landing, she’d been assigned a new dorm-mate in Mya Stone. But Mya spent most of her time with her on/off boyfriend, Mychel, and so Sansa was alone more often than not. 

_Home_. 

Noise and laughter and Rickon running through the house like a bundle of human energy. Bran, grounded physically by his chair, but talking nineteen to the dozen about a new computer app he was working on or the latest conspiracy theory he and his friend Jojen were obsessed with. Arya, training in the gym their father had been forced to turn one of the out-buildings into, and hosting movie and video game marathons in the basement room turned over to the Stark offspring as a sort of den when Robb turned ten.

And Robb……..her elder brother, her first friend and protector and hero. He would be there. He’d followed their father into the legal profession and was just finished his first year at White Harbour Law along with his best friend, Jon. Robb would no doubt be interning at their father’s practice as she was. They could have lunch together and catch up on everything they’d missed out on in their twice weekly video calls. 

Yes, Sansa was so excited to be coming home. 

There was just the complication of her final two years of study. She knew her father was on good terms with Wyman Manderly, Chancellor of WHU. She knew it would take a phone call and her e-mail with Marna Locke would be forgotten about, seen as unnecessary, and her transfer from KLU would be seamless. But Sansa wanted this for herself. And so she resolved not to say anything until she’d at least heard from Ms. Locke. 

-

It was a little after eight when the announcement was made over the tannoy proclaiming their approach to Wintertown Central. It was still light outside, but there had been country mists since Cerwyn that had dismayed Sansa, who had wanted to see the outskirts of her hometown as the train approached it. 

She gathered her things together, carefully placing her book into the daffodil embossed carry-on bag she’d brought with her, and slipping her empty juice bottle into the recycling bin behind her seat. Looking out onto the platform when the train rolled into the station, Sansa’s heart skipped a beat when she saw her father standing there under the _Platform 2_ sign. 

All the worries that had plagued Sansa on her journey fell away a little as she pressed the bright button that opened the train doors and leapt out into her father’s arms. He smelled of pine trees and woodsmoke. He smelled of _home_. 

“We’ve all missed you so much, sweetheart”, he muttered into her hair. Sansa hugged her father tightly, not caring if this was her making a spectacle of herself in public as Joff and his friends would’ve scoffed. She had missed her father just as much – if not more so. 

“I missed you too”, she replied. “All of you. Did you come alone?”

“I did”, Ned Stark confirmed, wordlessly relieving Sansa of her carry-on bag and allowing her to slip her arm in his as she’d loved to do as a young girl. “Your mother is preparing what I can only describe as a feast to celebrate your return – and I have it on good authority there are lemon cakes from Mordane’s Bakery for afterwards, so have that in mind when you eat – “

“Lemon cakes?” Sansa could feel her mouth water at the mere mention of her favourite treat. For some reason, they just weren’t the same down in King’s Landing. 

“Lemon cakes. I might forget to take my share.” Sansa smiled up at him. “As for the others – Rickon is grounded for smashing the conservatory windows after being a little over-enthusiastic during a joyride on Arya’s quad bike, Bran was last seen on video chat with Jojen debating whether or not the Children of the Forest ever existed, and Arya is out in the gym with Gendry.”

So, all was normal then. Just as Sansa had hoped it would be. There was a constancy to her home life that had always made her feel so safe there, among her kin. 

“When is Robb home?” Sansa asked. She felt her father stiffen. They had reached his car, and her father said nothing until they were seated, belted and ready to leave. “Father?”

“Your mother is a little upset. Robb will be home in a couple of days. But he’ll only be staying for a week.” The smile on Sansa’s face fell at the sound of that. She’d been counting on her big brother and their lunches and silly jokes and him taking her out for the odd drink on a Friday or Saturday night.

“ _Oh_.”

“He’s lined up an internship at the Farman & Associates branch in Lannisport. Robb wants to spend the summer with Jeyne and _she_ has something lined up with a hotel chain based there. I’m sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing him again.”

Sansa coughed. She turned and looked out the window and saw they were moving out of the station car park onto the main street in town. There were signs advertising the upcoming town fair. “Never mind. We can still video chat like we do when I’m in King’s Landing. Mother must be upset, though, as you said.”

“In any case, Robb will be here for a week, and he’ll be back before the semester starts up again. I suppose it will be useful for him to gain some experience working within the Southron legal system.” The North had given up some of its independence and customs with the union of the crowns centuries ago, when the Seven Kingdoms had united into the Westeros of today. There remained, however, a separate legal system beyond the Neck. 

“That’s one less person I shall know at work over the summer, then.” Her father had arranged – as he had the previous summer – for her to work at Stark & Sons, for him. She would file, answer telephones and assist the interns with their research. It wasn’t the most challenging work in the world, but Sansa enjoyed the research and felt it had helped her craft her own study methods. 

“You’ll know Jon.”

“Jon? Jon Snow?” Jon Snow was Robb’s oldest and closest friend. They had both gone to White Harbour for under-grad, though they had pursued different routes there to the Law School attached to the college. Robb had studied Business Administration with Political Science, and Jon had opted for History. “Did he ask you for a place?”

“No, he didn’t. In fact, he entered through the Intern Programme we have. I spoke to him when I realised, but he simply shrugged his shoulders and said he’d wanted to get in on his own merits rather than through preferential treatment as a friend of Robb’s.” 

Her father’s firm held a blind admissions essay test for their coveted summer internships. The partners – her father included – were given a stack of coded entries from prospective applicants with no idea of their name or place of study. It was competitive and Sansa could tell from her father’s tone of voice how impressed he was.

“That sounds like Jon.” Sansa smiled. She had known Jon for so long, even if they had never really been close. And she had overheard his conversation with Robb during their final year at Wintertown High, when they’d discussed Jon’s scholarship application. Robb had suggested their father could speak to Mr. Manderly on Jon’s behalf (Sansa knew a scholarship was the only way Jon could afford college) but he’d turned him down. He would succeed or fail on his own merits. Jon had been stubborn about it, though Sansa now had the utmost respect for him over it.

Maybe it was part of why _she_ didn’t want her father making a call to Wyman. After seeing how things were done in the South and how a phone call to the right person at the right time could change the course of events in a heartbeat, she wanted truth and honesty and merit to reign.

-

When they reached Winterfell, the large, creaky old Stark home that Sansa had grown up in, she set all thoughts of safety aside and was out of her seatbelt and opening the car door before her father had finished parking. She ran inside and through to the kitchen, where her mother was checking something in the oven. 

Sansa watched as she shifted a few things around and then closed the oven door. And then, almost as if a sixth sense had come over her, Catelyn Stark spun round and ran over to Sansa, pulling her eldest daughter into her arms. 

“Sansa! Oh, how I have missed you!” Her mother pulled back and looked at her critically, leaving Sansa feeling a tad exposed. “Hmm, in need of feeding up, I think. You’ve been studying too hard. No matter. We have a bit of time before you begin work to pamper you! I made reservations at Wolfswood Spa for us – and Arya, if she wishes to come – for early next week.”

Wolfswood Spa had always been one of Sansa’s favourite places to go for a treat.

“That sounds amazing”, Sansa admitted heartily. She took a deep breath in and her nostrils were filled with the smells of home. Of the dishes her mother always made on special occasions. “I can’t wait to eat. Dinner smells as fantastic as always.”

“You must be starving after that long train ride. The quality of food on that service is not as it once was. We’ll be late eating, but nobody minds. Not with you coming home. Your room is ready for you – your father and Rickon even gave it a fresh coat of paint last weekend – and I stopped off at a certain bakery – “

“Dad said”, Sansa interrupted with a grin. She presumed the painting had been part of Rickon’s punishment for the broken glass (Sansa could see all of the windows in the conservatory boarded up and wondered idly just how badly he’d crashed) but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It had been on her to-do list for the summer. 

“And you must let me know if you want any of your college friends to come and stay. Three months can be a long time to be separated and in college you can build such close relationships.”

Sansa forced her face to remain open and happy. She half-wondered if this was her mother fishing to see if there was a man in her life. “No, that won’t be – most of the people I know at KLU will be working all summer. And the rest will travel. Abroad. To Essos, or the Summer Isles.”

“Ah, well, thank goodness for video calls then.”

“Hey, Sans.” She turned to see her youngest brother enter the room and quickly pulled him into a tight hug. Bless Rickon for his timing!

“Oooft!” Rickon was twelve and probably felt himself too old for such hugs from his sister, but Sansa didn’t pay any mind to that. She hadn’t seen him in person for months. “Geez, Sansa, have you been lifting weights like Arya or something?”

“No. I just missed my baby brother is all.”

“A little less of the baby”, Rickon complained. He’d once told her that he couldn’t wait until she and Robb started having kids of their own because it’d mean he wouldn’t be the baby of the family any longer. Sansa laughed, feeling so much lighter now that she was back at Winterfell and surrounded by family.

-

When she finally crashed out on her bed a couple of hours later, Sansa found herself both exhausted and relieved that the day was over. After her reunion with her mother and Rickon, Arya and Gendry had wandered in from the gym outbuilding looking as if they’d spent the afternoon in a sauna. When their mother had pointed out that a simple “Hey” was no way for Arya to greet her sister, she’d simply shrugged and replied that she stank and was covered in sweat and Sansa wouldn’t thank her for a hug.

Bless Arya! After the blend of false courtesy and passive aggressive rudeness Sansa had encountered in King’s Landing, she felt more and more comfortable on each return home around her sister’s blunt honesty. Arya always called a spade a spade and where she’d once despaired of her sister, Sansa now loved and admired her for it. 

Dinner had been simply wonderful, if about three days of meals crammed into one, and after a couple of glasses of wine Sansa had begged off and made her way up to the newly brightened bedroom that had been hers since she was a toddler. 

One of the four walls was painted a beautiful lemony yellow, bright as the sunshine that would catch it each summer morning provided the weather was good enough. Her carry-on luggage was sitting where her father had left it, at the end of the bed, and Sansa pulled out the nightwear and change of clothes she’d packed for the following day. Her boxes from King’s Landing were due to be delivered in the morning, and the only clothes Sansa ever left in her closet at Winterfell were those suitable only for a Northern winter.

It felt strange and comforting at the same time, now she thought of it, lying on her own bed with her favourite daffodil embossed duvet cover. Only that morning she’d woken up alone in her dorm-room, Mya having spent her final night at Mychel’s before their planned return to the Vale. But now, she could hear the sound of Arya and Rickon arguing over what DVD to watch or game to play (Gendry having returned home), a piece of classical music her mother loved echoed through the hallway from the family bathroom, and the song of the night birds who flitted about outside her open window. 

Sansa got up and pulled her curtains shut. They were the summer ones, meant to block out the light and prevent her from being woken at four thirty when daybreak fell at this time of year. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of her phone buzzing lightly. 

A smile filled her face when Sansa saw the message was from Robb. She had texted her brother before dinner to say she’d arrived safely and was looking forward to seeing him soon. As much as she had liked Jeyne Westerling, the girl Robb had brought home for Easter break, it was hard for her to hide her disappointment at how little they would see of each other in the next three months. 

At least if she ended up being able to transfer that would be something positive to come of it all – she would get to see so, so much more of Robb. That thought filled Sansa with happiness as she opened the message.

_Fantastic as always to hear you are on the right side of the Neck! Jeyne and I are looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the fam very soon. Out at the moment for a final farewell at_ The Wolf’s Den _with Jeyne, Jon and some friends. Sleep tight little sister. Love, Robb._

_Little sister_. Sansa let out a soft snort at that. Since not long after her sixteenth birthday, she had been taller than Robb! _The Wolf’s Den_ was her brother’s favourite pub in White Harbour and Sansa wondered just how long her brother had been ensconced there, in the corner Jon had once told her the two of them favoured as it was in close proximity to the pool table and vintage arcade games the owner had installed to entice the student population into his establishment. 

_Excited to see you both too! Start preparing your bellies now for mum’s welcome home dinner – I’m still stuffed from mine and probably will be when you get here. In the meantime, have lots of fun and remember to drink water before bedtime. Love, your Younger and Taller Sister, Sansa._

She added a smiley face and a wink emoji before hitting the send button and set the alarm on her phone for a little after nine. As exhausted as she was from her travel, Sansa knew she couldn’t let herself fall into a sleep pattern of late nights and lie-ins. Not when she was starting work in a little under a fortnight. 

Sansa stripped off the dress she’d travelled in and set it aside with her underwear, before pulling on a light cotton camisole and baggy pyjama bottoms she’d picked up in a sale not long before the end of term. After studying _Jonquil and Florian_ for six hours, her eyes had started to see spots and Sansa had known it was time to take a break. There was late night shopping on Wednesdays in some of the stores near campus and she’d come across this pretty but practical set. 

It was too hot to lay under anything other than the duvet, and as Sansa did so she looked up to the ceiling and heaved a heavy sigh. She was relieved to be home and among her family again, but at the same time she was well aware this would not be an easy summer. Her mind turned to the e-mail she’d sent earlier that day, to WHU Admissions. 

How would her parents feel about her transferring? Would they and everybody else see it as yet another of Sansa’s failures to live up to her promise as the perfect golden child who would live a simply perfect life? Would she even be able to transfer?

She closed her eyes and tried to put it from her mind. Hopefully she would have a response in the morning. It could be dealt with then. 


	2. Home, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intro to Jon........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for the lovely initial feedback - I hope you continue to enjoy reading this story as much as I am writing it! :)

“ _Your Younger and Taller sister_ ”, Robb read out, guffawing slightly, though Jon could see the affection in his friend’s face and hear it in the tone of his voice. Having known him for the best part of twenty years, Jon Snow knew well enough just how close Robb was to the rest of his family. 

“Sansa clearly has a good sense of humour”, said Jeyne. “Hopefully I will get to know her a bit better over the next week or so. And in the future. She spent most of her Easter break studying, so we didn’t get much time together.”

“You and Sansa will get on”, Robb told his girlfriend tenderly. Jon took an interest in his drink for the moment, looking down at the dregs of his whiskey and coke while Robb and Jeyne got all lovey-dovey. There had been more of them at the start of the night, but Sam and Gilly had left early, Tormund was busy chatting up the barmaid and Grenn had challenged Pyp to best of three at pool. 

Jon wanted to reassure Jeyne that Robb was right. He had yet to see Sansa Stark be openly unfriendly to anyone. Robb’s sweet younger sister had always been popular at Wintertown High. Perhaps too popular at times. Jon recalled more than one occasion when Robb had played the high-handed older brother. 

“You’ll see more of Sansa this summer than I will”, Robb told him, pulling Jon away from thoughts of whether he should order another round or return to the flat and complete his packing. They were busy readying themselves to head home for three months and most of his stuff was piled around empty boxes. 

“I guess I will”, Jon shrugged. At least he’d know someone, now that Robb had elected to spend the summer in the Westerlands with Jeyne. Well, someone other than Ned Stark. He’d met a couple of the other partners – Rodrik Cassel and Jeor Mormont – at social occasions with Robb, but only briefly, along with Rodrik’s paralegal nephew, Jory. 

“You’ll need to look out for Sansa for me. Promise you will. I don’t like the idea of any of the interns scamming on her, or taking advantage of her good nature. She’s too sweet to say no if they try and push her into doing their work. And too innocent to be going on wild nights out with them”, Robb said. 

Jeyne thwacked her boyfriend lightly on the shoulder. “Robb, your sister is twenty years old. She is a grown woman who has been in relationships before. You cannot rule her love life. And I hardly think any of the interns will try and take advantage of the boss man’s daughter. Now, I’m off to the bathroom and I’ll stop at the bar on the way back. Same again?”

Robb and Jon both nodded, but – as Jon knew would be the case – the moment Jeyne was out of sight, Robb was turning to him. “Make sure you _do_ look out for Sansa. Jeyne is right, she is a grown woman. But she’s also my little sister.”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe”, Jon promised. He’d intended to in any case. They may not be as close as he and Arya, whom he saw as a younger sister of his own, but Jon had known Sansa Stark for most of her life. She was intelligent, witty and had grown into a woman he hoped to one day call a friend, outgrowing the slightly snooty, snobby – almost aloof – habits she’d had as a schoolgirl. 

Jon couldn’t criticise Sansa for her schoolgirl ways. As a young teen he’d been broody and taciturn as hell. He wondered sometimes how his poor mother had ever put up with him. But, then, Lyanna Snow was an ER Nurse Manager and he knew she dealt daily with far worse than anything he’d ever thrown at her. 

“Thank you. It’ll be strange, being away from home over the summer.” 

“I know, but I get why you’re going”, Jon replied. 

Robb snorted. “I’m not sure my mother does. She was pretty upset when I told her. Dad tried to make the best of it, talk about how working in a Southron Law practice would expand my knowledge, but you know how family-orientated he can be.”

“As long as you don’t skip out on Christmas, you’ll be fine. _That_ I think your mother would see as some sort of sacrilege.” Jon had seen a Stark Christmas up close, as his mother had been forced to work a shift on the day more than once, and knew how seriously Catelyn Stark took it. From the decorations to the meal to the presents and the hideous traditional Christmas jumpers everyone was obliged to wear, along with their paper hats……..

“Yeah, that won’t be happening any time soon”, Robb coughed. “I value my life. I just – I love Jeyne.”

And then Robb got that gooey look on his face that Jon was almost jealous of. Not because he wanted Jeyne for himself, no. She and Robb were right for one another and had identified that fact almost immediately after they’d met at the Hallowe’en party Umber had given. Rather, he envied Robb finding someone special. Jon hadn’t heard anything of Ygritte after she went travelling up beyond the Skirling Pass after high school graduation. And Val, his college girlfriend, hadn’t wanted to settle down. She’d gone off to pastures new as soon as the ink on her degree certification was dry. 

Jon knew deep down that someday in the future, perhaps not long after they were qualified lawyers, he would be stood as best man to Robb while the two of them watched Jeyne walk down the aisle on her father’s arm. And he was one thousand percent excited for that day. He just hoped that, one day, he’d be able to see some girl walking towards him like that.

“I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!” Jon laughed aloud as he heard the chants from Grenn, clearly victorious in his mini-tournament with Pyp. His friend held the pool cue aloft as a sort of trophy and ensured everyone’s attention was on him. 

It was a shame they were all separating for the summer, Jon reflected, but he was looking forward to working at Ned Stark’s firm all the same. He’d worked hard in writing that admissions essay and hadn’t even told Robb he was applying, instead talking vaguely about seeing if his mother could line him up with something at Wintertown General for the summer. Jon knew his best friend well enough to realise that had Robb been aware of his interest in interning at Stark & Sons, he would’ve called his father and Jon would have been given a place with no questions asked. 

Jon wanted – no, needed – to prove himself, though. He wanted to get in on merit as he had to undergrad _and_ postgrad at WHU. He was a scholarship student and knew his mother took pride in his ability to achieve things based solely on his own hard work. 

His father was rich, a property magnate in the South. The man had never paid any attention to Jon, who was well aware of the money that had been refused. Jon wanted nothing to do with the man he saw as his mother’s sperm donor. They’d done fine on their own until now and always would. They were of the _North_. 

“I’m going to head off now”, Jon told Robb, finally deciding on something that’d been on his mind all day. He quickly downed the drink Jeyne had bought him and gave her an apologetic smile. “I want to get up early to finish packing and maybe head home early as a surprise.”

Jon knew his mother would come off night shift in the morning and then have a few days before she worked again. If he was quick enough, he could be in Wintertown for their traditional weekly Braavosi take-out night. 

“Catch you in the morning”, Jon added. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the table, waved a quick goodbye to the others and then walked out into the cool evening air coming in from the Narrow Sea. Jon, without much wheedling, would admit to not really liking the heat. Studying at White Harbour meant that even in the summer months there was a breeze to lighten the air. 

_The Wolf’s Den_ was only a five minute walk away from the flat he and Robb had found for the school year. The landlord would rent it out to holidaymakers over the summer months, but they already had a tentative agreement in place for the lease come the end of September. Jon wondered idly if he’d be sharing with more than just Robb come next semester. It was a big enough flat, with Robb insisting on a third bedroom in the event one of the family came to visit for the weekend.

As he turned the lock behind him and looked at the mass of boxes and suitcases, Jon found himself relieved that the flat had come furnished. He switched on the twenty-four hour news channel, WNC, and took a bottle of water from the fridge. 

While the news anchor rattled off the international headlines, the Meereenese Labour Conference, the Volantene elections and the new tariffs Tyrosh and Myr had put in place, Jon gathered together his books and began to stack them into the sturdy boxes he and Robb had picked up in the local hardware store. He needed to keep them neat and handy; they’d most likely come in useful over the summer when he was interning. 

Jon knew from being around the Starks for as long as he had that Ned Stark took his summer internship programme seriously – the wage the interns were paid spoke to that. Interns were there to learn and get real on-job training, not to run errands for partners free of charge. It was the main reason Jon had been so keen to get one of the places up for grabs. 

Having completed the first of three years of study, he was unsure as yet which area he wanted to specialise in. He knew Robb was being groomed to follow his father into a firm that did a little bit of everything, but tended to lean more towards family law than anything else. Did Jon want to specialise in that? He knew that the corporate, business side of things wasn’t him. It never had been, reminding him as it did of his father. Environmental, then? Criminal? Perhaps this summer would give him an idea of what he wanted to focus on. 

Of one thing Jon was certain, though, he reaffirmed to himself as he switched off the news channel when it switched to the story of the new Targaryen development at Summerhall. He was studying _Northern_ Law. He would stay in the _North_.

-

The light crept in Jon’s curtains early the following morning. After seeing it was a little after five, he turned over, pulled the duvet cover above his head and went back to sleep for another few hours, only waking again when his alarm disturbed him at eight thirty. Jon groaned, but stuck to the schedule he had devised for himself when setting the alarm around midnight. 

He padded through to the living room, where he’d left his now full boxes of books, and then to the kitchen where he made himself coffee and toast. He could see the aftermath of Pentoshi take-out on the counter and surmised that Robb and Jeyne had stopped off for something to eat on the way back from _The Wolf’s Den_. Jon left the TV off, not wanting to wake them, and instead had a look at the news headlines on his phone. 

Stannis Baratheon was considering running in the next election, the Dornish heatwave was the hottest in a century or two, and the abandoned village of Summerhall was to undergo restoration. Jon put his phone down and chewed on his toast. It would be so much easier to ignore the father who’d always ignored him if the man wasn’t on TV or in the newspapers so damn often.

He set aside thoughts of Rhaegar Targaryen and considered his planned timetable for the day. Finish packing and then load the car, fill it up with fuel and leave around lunchtime. That would get him into Wintertown around five, and by seven he’d be eating Braavosi food from _House of Black and White_ , the take-out place he and his mother had favoured for years.

Jon made himself a second cup of coffee, quickly dressed, and then started on loading up the three suitcases he’d brought with him. Robb and a couple of the other guys always laughed when they saw Jon packing clothes, questioning why he needed so much when everything he wore was black. But Jon was no Sansa Stark, he mused, and he had no clue how to match colours. So, he stuck with black. At least nothing clashed badly and he looked vaguely smart. 

He came across the Hardhome t-shirt from the trip he’d taken with his mother just before his final year at Wintertown High. That had been a good trip. Jon had still been seeing Ygritte then, and she’d been there with some cousins. Jon could recall the campsite where they’d stayed and the big bonfire lit every Sunday night as a means of bringing all the holidaymakers together. There had been singing, music and dancing, and feasts. 

Jon wondered sometimes what had become of her and the other students from his schooldays that he no longer kept up with. He supposed he could always find them on Facebook. Robb was the only school friend that had really stuck.

-

Robb and Jeyne insisted on taking him to the downstairs deli for lunch before his drive home, and so it had been a little later than intended that Jon drove off, the latest _Direwolves_ album his only company for the road. He’d managed to make up a little time on the drive, though, and it wasn’t that long before five thirty that his old, battered car pulled up outside the modest but pretty two-bed cottage his mother had bought and done up for them. Jon grinned to see her in the garden, checking on her roses.

“You told me you’d be back tomorrow!” She reproached him with a broad grin and a tight hug. “I’ve missed you! Were you planning this all along? You’re lucky I got your bed made up today. Fridge isn’t filled up, though.” Lyanna stepped back. “Here, let me look at you!”

“I just had a thought yesterday that it might be nice to surprise you”, Jon told her. 

“You’re lucky you’ve come across me gardening. I could quite easily have been planning some wild party tonight. You _could_ have walked into preparations for a _Chataya & Alayaya_ event like the one I went to at Nurse Mollen’s house a couple of weekends ago. Imagine that!” Jon shivered internally at the thought of it. For all he and his mother had always been very open with one another, he’d rather she went to or held parties involving lingerie and sex toys while he wasn’t around. 

There was only so much a son wanted to know about his mother’s life. 

“You’ve been eating well enough by the looks of you, but I don’t like those bags under your eyes. Studying too hard, I shouldn’t wonder. As usual.”

“I did have end of term exams”, Jon pointed out, hands back in his pockets. “And I am sure you will have ample opportunity to spoil me over the summer, even if I am out working five days a week.”

His mother linked her arm in his and directed Jon into the house. The luggage could wait until later. “And when do you start?”

“A week Monday.”

“I’m so proud of you, getting one of those internships. I met Ned and Cat in town last Sunday at Gage’s. He told me that you didn’t let on at all you were applying. You did it anonymously. You are such a hard worker, Jon. It…..it makes me feel like I haven’t done a bad job with you.” Jon spun round and pulled his mother in for another hug.

“I wouldn’t exchange you for any other mother in the world.” He kissed her cheek lightly. “Now, it is Braavosi night! Take-out menus still in the same place?”

-

“That was the biggest feast I’ve eaten since the last time you were home”, his mother told him with a heavy sigh. They were each spread out on a sofa and Jon was relieved it was take-out they’d just finished as it seemed unlikely they would be moving for a while. His mother cradled her beer, and Jon reached out for his.

“Yeah, it’s the most I’ve had in a while”, Jon admitted. When Jeyne was over she’d often make enough pasta for the three of them, but most of the time Jon’s dinner consisted of some sort of meat wedged in between two slices of bread or take-out from the deli downstairs. 

“Urgh, this is making my jeans uncomfortably tight. Remind me next time you come home to wear stretchy yoga pants when we have your welcoming feast.” Jon snorted. 

“I’ll remember”, he promised. “So, when do you have time off over the summer?”

“Not until the end of September. I wanted to allow the nurses with younger kids a chance to take time off when the schools are closed. As it is, I’ve spent most of the last fortnight changing the rotas to help out where I can. I know what it’s like to have to arrange childcare for seven weeks when you’re on your own. My boss was flexible when you were little. It’s nice to give something back.”

“I don’t ever want you to think I missed out in some way”, Jon told her, voicing something he’d thought for a long time. Since he’d realised just how much she sacrificed for him. To give him the best she could. Lyanna smiled softly at him. “I mean it. You’re the one person I look up to more than any other.”

“Oh, Jon. You’re a sweet man. The sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Just this one. My time off is at the end of September. I thought I might come back with you to White Harbour for a few days, and then maybe head up to Karhold. There’s a folk festival there the first week in October. I haven’t been to a music festival in years.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever go to one again”, Jon shivered. “Not after that one Theon dragged me and Robb to at Sea Dragon Point summer before last. It rained the entire weekend. Theon told us he had three tents. Good ones. He had _one_ good tent, in which he spent most of the weekend with some girl who worked on the boats up there, while Robb and I had to share the second, leaky one he’d brought. I was in bed with ‘flu for a week after that trip!”

Theon Greyjoy had been in the first Business Admin class Robb had in their very first week of term as freshmen, and had fallen into friendship with the two of them during their undergrad years. While Jon and Robb had elected to stay on at WHU, Theon had informed them that he’d wasted enough of his life studying and moved back to Pyke. He’d visited them for a weekend in February, and Jon’s liver had taken nigh on a fortnight to recover afterwards.

Lyanna laughed. “I remember. How is Theon?”

“Good. Working for his sister’s company in Pyke. He might come over for a visit. His plans are uncertain. Asha, the sister he’s working for, is getting married at the end of August. Robb and I were speaking to him on video chat the other day.” Jon finished off his beer, and his mother passed him another from the pack next to her. 

“We should go to the pub Saturday night”, she told him. “Have some dinner, then stay for happy hour and a game of pool or darts.”

“No betting, though”, Jon made her promise. His mother played pool better than anyone he’d ever met. Some of his friends might find it strange, the way he socialised with his mother, but Jon never did. She was only seventeen when he was born, and when he’d reached adulthood he realised just how small their age difference was. She could as easily have been his elder sister as his mother. She was only forty now. 

“Fine, no betting – at least not against anyone I’ve never played before”, she conceded. “I’m not back on shift again until Tuesday morning. We could do something on Sunday or Monday if you like.”

“That would be good. I need to hit the shops sometime next week, though. Get a few things for starting my internship at Ned’s firm. I wear a lot of black, but most of it isn’t exactly professional wear. I think I have one suit other than my funeral one.” He didn’t want to look out of place. Although he’d won his place fair and square, he knew there were those who might doubt that when they inevitably discovered his closest friend was Ned Stark’s eldest son. Jon didn’t want to give them anyone reason to say he didn’t belong there; to say he wasn’t good enough. 

He’d been a scholarship student since the day he set foot in White Harbour. Jon knew well enough he needed to work twice as hard to prove himself. Just as his mother had needed to do to prove she was competent enough to raise a son on her own. 

“I’ve still to unpack the car”, Jon groaned, remembering. All those boxes! It had taken him and Robb the best part of half an hour to make sure everything was safely stowed in the trunk and back seat. Thinking on his mother’s intention to come back to White Harbour with him at the end of the summer, he was relieved that his college things didn’t extend to the front seat. At least she’d be able to fit in. 

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? You do have clothes here. I remember not letting you take everything away with you.”

Jon laughed. “True”, he admitted. “Yeah, I guess it could wait until the morning.”

Jon yawned. Gods, but it had been such a long day. It was strange to think that not twelve hours ago he had woken up in the bed in White Harbour. He’d felt a tad guilty at leaving Robb to finish off everything with the landlord and return their keys, but he’d understood. And had pointed out that it’d mean he and Jeyne could have the flat to themselves for their last night. 

He wondered again if Robb would be the only person he was living with next semester. He wondered if Robb would even want to share with him. They’d agreed when starting postgrad that they’d share for the full three years, but Robb had yet to meet Jeyne then. She’d done her undergrad in Lannisport and only moved to WHU for her HR qualifications. If it came to it, he could always see if Grenn, Pyp and Tormund wanted to get a bigger place and go in with them. 

“Copper for them”, his mother asked softly. 

“My tired ramblings aren’t worth even that much”, Jon replied. He yawned yet again and then took another few sips of his beer. He liked this, being at home. 


	3. Family & Friends

When Sansa woke a little after nine on Friday morning, she found herself grabbing at her phone with a need to check her e-mails. Part of her had hoped she’d receive a response from Marna Locke the same day, but she knew that at this time of year the Admissions department would be busy dealing with the applications from prospective freshmen starting their courses in September. The break from classes did not mean a rest for all staff.

She yawned widely and then opened up the e-mail app on her phone. She had five new messages. Sansa quickly deleted the junk mail from a persistent web seller she’d once bought a couple of dresses from and ignored the one from KLU, which she knew from last year was simply a reminder of the dates for the next semester. Instead, Sansa opened the one from a White Harbour e-mail address hoping the KLU e-mail would ultimately be irrelevant to her.

_Dear Miss Stark,_

_We would like to thank you for your recent interest in our_ Northern Literature _course._

_Administrator Locke is currently on extended leave, but we have scheduled an appointment for you on her return. This appointment will take place five weeks from today at 11am. Please bring all documentation you have relating to your first two years of study at your current academic institution including transcripts._

_Please confirm this appointment as soon as possible, either by e-mail or on the number below._

_We look forward to meeting with you, and thank you for your interest in White Harbour University._

_Regards,_

_Lea Woolfield_

A burst of excitement filled Sansa’s heart as she read the words and readily replied, confirming her attendance at the appointment. She would need to tell her parents something beforehand, of course. Her father at least would inevitably know that she was taking the day off (she’d be entitled to two days leave per month as part of her job) from the daily absence e-mails. For the moment, though, she wouldn’t say anything. 

For now, she would simply enjoy the start of summer.

Sansa dressed for the day in a white camisole top and flowing ankle length skirt of summery lemon and went downstairs to find her mother reading the news headlines on the tablet they’d all clubbed together to buy for her last birthday. 

“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” her mother asked while Sansa poured them both cups of milky coffee. 

“As I always do at home”, Sansa confirmed. She set her mother’s coffee down on the table beside her. “I take it Arya and the boys aren’t up yet?”

Her mother laughed. “I doubt we’ll see them before noon. Rickon would sleep most of the day if he could. He’s been up to all hours every night since school ended. If it isn’t movie marathons then it’s those computer games of his. Do you have any plans for today?”

“Not really. Unpacking my things when they get dropped off, obviously, but nothing beyond that.” She really just wanted to curl up on her bed and finish her _Bael_ book, having been too tired to take anything in when she’d gone upstairs the night before. “Do you need any help getting things ready for Robb?”

“No, not really. I won’t be picking up anything for his dinner until tomorrow, so that it’s fresh. I just need to get the bedroom sorted for him and Jeyne. Now, what would you like for breakfast?”

-

“Robb, come here!” Sansa stood off to the side as her mother came to be the first to hug Robb upon his arrival from White Harbour. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Sansa had spent much of the day in the kitchen helping to prepare the massive dinner her mother felt it necessary to cook to welcome Robb home. 

Sansa smiled at Jeyne, who she could tell must feel a little awkward. Other than the time she’d spent with the Starks at Easter, her only acquaintance with Robb’s family had been a long weekend Sansa knew her parents had spent in White Harbour in early March. 

Sansa felt a pang of sympathy for her, recalling the awkward weekend she’d spent around the Lannisters when they’d come to visit Joffrey. She’d known Robert vaguely for years as he’d visited Wintertown regularly, but it had been her first encounter with the maternal side of his family. 

Tyrion had been amusing after a few glasses of wine over lunch, and Myrcella and Tommen very sweet, but Cersei and Tywin had been daunting and made Sansa feel thrice the fool Joff had implied and then outright told her she was.

“It’s good to be home again”, she heard Robb say. 

“Thank you for letting me stay”, Jeyne added, shaking her mother’s hand formally. “I know I’m stealing your son for most of the summer.”

Sansa moved forward as her mother shushed Jeyne’s apologies. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’m hopeful we can get to know each other a bit better over the next week. I think I spent almost all of your last visit studying.” She saw Robb squeeze Jeyne’s hand and felt a pang of envy in her heart at the sight. One day, she hoped someone would be as sweet as that with her. 

“Me too”, Jeyne grinned. 

Jeyne chatted away as they walked inside, setting Sansa at ease, about their last few days in White Harbour and the huge tailback they’d encountered when the White Knife Highway met the Kingsroad coming up from the South. Sansa listened closely to tales of nights at _The Wolf’s Den_ , the restaurant Robb had taken Jeyne to, _New Castle_ , and the winding streets of the port city. 

Sansa hadn’t been to White Harbour in years, but hearing Jeyne’s words allowed her to smell the sea and hear the foghorns of ships coming into port late at night. It was a more measured, purposeful kind of busy. The kind Sansa liked. A Northern kind of busy. 

-

Sansa spent the rest of the day flitting between the kitchen, where she knew her mother appreciated her help in getting a few things ready for the gargantuan feast being prepared for their dinner – _there_ will _be eight of us, and you know Rickon is at that age where he seems to eat enough for three_ – and the family room, where everyone except her father (who was still at work) was ensconced, catching up with Robb and Jeyne. 

She found herself liking the amusing, chatty and warm girl her brother had brought home and hoping they would become good friends. It was clear how much Robb loved her, and Sansa knew instantly this was a girl who would be in her brother’s life for many, many years to come. 

Even Arya liked her. 

“I hate to think of you being away from us”, Sansa remonstrated with a furrowed brow in her brother’s direction. “But, what are your plans for the summer? Simply to work, or do you want to travel a bit?”

Robb chuckled. “If I could have all of you around me this summer it would be great. But…..we’ll have weekends to go off and do things. We were thinking about taking a couple of days to go over to Fair Isle and see the ruins of Faircastle.”

“I went with my family the year before I started at Crag High”, Jeyne interjected. Sansa saw Robb take her hand in his and felt a small pang of jealousy that she’d never had what they did. “It is an absolutely stunning place. The ruins are beautiful and you really get a sense of the history of the castle and the grounds. And they have a new exhibit opening up in the museum next to it telling the story of Elissa.”

While Arya prattled on about Elissa Farman’s period-defying career as a sailor, Sansa tried to conjure an image in her head, but all that seemed to appear were romantic notions too akin to the Southron literary traditions she was trying to escape from. 

She held in her heart the secret of her meeting at WHU. Part of her wanted to take Robb aside and confide in her big brother, but Sansa knew he would end up feeling guilty that he had somehow missed her unhappiness in their regular video calls and, if the worst happened and she didn’t get the transfer she wanted to WHU, when she returned to King’s Landing at the end of summer it would leave him worrying about her.

“I don’t get what’s so great about a bunch of old rocks”, Rickon shrugged. 

“Its history – what’s left of a place once everyone who remembered it is gone”, Bran told him. “And somewhere like Faircastle has to be haunted by the ghosts of people who lived there.”

“Bo- _ring_.”

“Sorry squirt – there isn’t a history of computer games class for you to ace”, Arya told him. 

“You’ve a cheek calling _me_ squirt.” Rickon puffed out his chest and then stood up to stretch, demonstrating the recently-acquired height that far out-stripped Arya’s. 

-

At dinner, Sansa found herself sitting opposite Robb and Jeyne. Every time they exchanged a look of pure love while passing each other one dish or another, Arya would make gagging faces and her mother would smile endearingly at them. Sansa wondered if she was mentally planning wedding invitations and internally debating whether their extensive garden would stretch to a marquee. 

Sansa loved family dinners. As a teenager they had been the bane of her existence. All she’d wanted to do was talk to her friends online about their latest crushes, or binge re-watch the latest season of some reality show or other. But, since she’d moved to King’s Landing, she appreciated them as a good excuse for quality family time. Mostly, she listened to those around her. 

“How long would you be away for?” Sansa heard her father ask Bran. He had been invited to Greywater to stay with his friend, Jojen’s family. Her father had studied with Jojen’s father Howland years before, and they’d kept in touch with the two families meeting up at least a couple of times a year. Meera had always got on well with Arya, but both she and her brother had always seemed to gravitate towards Bran, finding a kindred spirit in him.

“About a week”, Bran replied. “We’re going to have an overnight trip to God’s Eye. Jojen and I want to go to the library there. He thinks there might be old sources that prove the Children of the Forest really existed. And……I thought maybe Jojen and Meera could come back here for a week after? Or, maybe later in the summer.”

“I’ll speak to Howland and find out what’s best for him. I owe him a call anyway.” Sansa smiled. Her father was always owing someone a call. His family was the most important aspect of his life and even his closest friendships came off second best. 

Her mother spoke next. “Jeyne, I wonder if you and Robb have any plans for Monday? If not, Sansa and I have a spare place on our spa booking.”

“Oh.” Jeyne sounded surprised, and perhaps a little nervous. Understandably so. It was one thing for her to come home with Robb and another to spend the best part of a day bonding with his mother and sister. Sansa would’ve been terrified if she’d had to do that with Cersei – even with Myrcella present to keep her calm. 

“ _Wolfswood Spa_ is by far the best in the North”, Sansa told her. “There are lots of different things to do – nail and facial treatments, massages, saunas, a half-indoor/half-outdoor swimming pool, and they do an amazing champagne lunch.”

Arya had turned down their mother’s invitation, arguing that she couldn’t give up a day’s training – even it was her gym day – a mere forty-eight hours before a competition.

Sansa saw Jeyne glance at Robb for reassurance before agreeing. “I haven’t been to a spa in years. This sounds like it’ll be fun.”

Sansa heard a buzzing sound, and Robb took his phone out of his pocket while their mother reiterated the _no phones at the table_ rule that had been enforced ever since Sansa had spent an entire meal chatting to her friend, Beth. From then on, it had been classed as family time. Once, that had seemed to like torture to Sansa.

“Sorry.” Robb looked a bit sheepish when he put the phone away – after reading the text message, Sansa noted. None of the rest of them would be able to get away with it, but as the eldest Robb seemed to have a special place in her mother’s heart. Particularly now he was spending most of the year in White Harbour. He was spoiled more and more each time he returned home to visit.

“Sorry?! If I’d been caught doing that, you wouldn’t have let me have any pie after”, Rickon grumbled. Sansa stifled a giggle. Poor Rickon, the perennial baby of the family.

“Eat your dinner and stop whining”, Arya told him. 

“It was Jon”, said Robb, holding up his phone in what Sansa suspected was an attempt to prevent Arya and Rickon getting into an argument at the dinner table and ruining the meal their mother had spent much of the day preparing. “He says he knows I’ll be skinned alive for going out tonight, but wants to know if any of us are interested in meeting him and Lyanna in the pub for a few drinks tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I haven’t seen Lyanna in a few weeks and Jon’s been away since the start of last semester. Just don’t let me near tequila if we start doing shots. I have a match on Wednesday”, Arya replied. “Gendry and I don’t have plans for tomorrow night. He has some work thing to go to. A birthday night out. Boys only.” Arya rolled her eyes at that.

“I don’t know you should be doing shots at any time, even if you _are_ of age to drink. It can’t be good for you.” Arya did not respond to that, and none of the rest of them felt it necessary to tell their mother that – like Robb and Sansa – Arya had been doing shots since the age of fifteen or sixteen. 

“I’ll come with you”, Sansa spoke up. She’d found Lyanna a little strange as a small child, so unlike Catelyn Stark it had puzzled a young Sansa. Now, she had nothing but admiration for the woman who had raised her son alone and risen so high in her chosen profession. And Jon was – though Sansa had never really thought about it – probably her favourite of Robb’s friends. He’d never flirted with her or treated her condescendingly. 

“I can reply later”, grinned Robb. “Let him know the four of us will be there. We can get a cab downtown after we’ve finished dinner.”

-

When Sansa was curled up in bed that night, scouring an online bookshop for other works written by the _Bael_ author, she was surprised to hear a knock on her door. “Come in.”

Robb wandered in, dressed for bed in a pair of pyjama bottoms and an old _Direwolves_ t-shirt that had been washed so many times it was now grey rather than black. He smiled at her, and then sat down at the end of the bed. It was like old times, Robb coming to check up on her the day he returned home from White Harbour. Their own little tradition that had begun the first night of his holidays during freshman year. 

“Hey”, she said, setting her tablet aside. 

“What were you reading?” Robb asked, pointing at the book on her nightstand. Sansa told him. “I didn’t think that would be on the syllabus at KLU.”

“It isn’t. I just – I found the book in a shop and it reminded me of home”, Sansa admitted quietly. “I like Jeyne. She’s great – I….I’m really happy you found each other.”

Sansa’s dreams of going off and meeting the love of her life had crashed and burned but she was so happy her brother had succeeded where she had not. 

“Me too!” Robb’s face lit up whenever he spoke of Jeyne. Sansa had noticed that. “We’ll keep in touch when I’m in Lannisport, I promise. How are things with you?”

“Good. Looking forward to the summer.” That at least was the truth. “I haven’t picked out my classes for next semester yet, so I’ll have plenty of time to think of that. It’s always good to be home.”

“You’ll do great at work. And Jon will be there this year. Keep an eye on him for me – make sure he actually takes a lunch break. He works far too hard.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’m pleased that you’re coming out with us tomorrow night. You’re not too cool for us anymore, are you?” Sansa snorted, pleased she was no longer the slightly shallow teen she had once been. King’s Landing had been a brutal education but Sansa thought she’d emerged from it a better person.

“Never.”

-

“I’m full again”, Jon groaned as he pushed away the almost-empty plate that the server had brought his sizzling steak and chips on. Since his arrival on Thursday evening, his mother had stuck true to her promise of feeding him up. When they’d arrived at _Castle Black_ , one of the pubs on the stretch of Wintertown known as _The Wall_ , Lyanna Snow had insisted upon the shared platter starter – and promptly left Jon to finish most of it. 

“Growing boy like you needs to eat”, his mother shrugged, before taking a final few bites of the lemon chicken dish she’d ordered. “Hmm, that was a good meal. I love getting food out like this.”

“That’s because you hate cooking and dishes”, Jon reminded her. He’d already decided his first gift to her when he started earning real money as a lawyer would be a fancy dishwasher. Jon picked up his phone to check the time and saw it was a little after seven. “Robb and the rest of them should be here soon.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting this new girl of his.” Jon snorted. Partly at the suggestion of Robb and Jeyne’s relationship being considered “new” and partly at the look of mischief on his mother’s face. Lyanna had been working flat out the last time Jeyne had visited Wintertown as a stomach virus made its way through the ER staff, and between one thing and another hadn’t been able to visit Jon while he was away at school that year. 

Lyanna considered herself a good and independent judge of girls Jon – and to an extent Robb – brought home. Not all of them knew how to take his mother, Jon knew. Ygritte and Lyanna had been very alike. Perhaps too alike, Jon later reflected. Val, on the other hand, hadn’t quite known what to do with a mother who socialised with Jon regularly and treated him so much like an equal. 

“You’ll really like her. She and Robb are perfect together. Jeyne doesn’t take any crap off Robb.” Jon thought back to the other night in _The Wolf’s Den_ when Jeyne had called Robb out on what she’d later said to Jon was his irritating infantilizing of Sansa. Jon could understand why Robb had made the request he had, though. He wondered how much Jeyne knew about Sansa’s relationship with Joffrey. 

“Good. She shouldn’t.” Lyanna swept a chip through the remnants of her lemon sauce, chasing it with the last of her beer. “You want another drink? My treat. I’ll settle this portion of our bill before Robb and the girls get here.”

“Why not?” Jon knew he’d be busy working for most of the summer. He might as well enjoy the little time he had off. His exams, for which the results would be posted in a couple of weeks, had been hellish. He and Robb had spent more nights than he could count holed up in the library until gone midnight, and even more trading practice questions in their flat until dawn. 

He chuckled under his breath watching his mother at the bar, hollering on the barman to serve her first. That barman always seemed to have a soft spot for her but Jon knew she kept his at a comfortable distance. 

“Here we go”, she smiled on her return. “Two beers. And the server will be over in a minute to clear away the plates, apparently. I’m surprised Arya is coming. Doesn’t she have a competition on Wednesday? I think there was an advertisement for it in the local paper.”

“She does, but Robb says that Gendry has a thing tonight for work and Arya is refusing to stay at home while everyone else is out having fun. I’ve missed the little hellion”, Jon replied. He smiled at the thought of Arya, so long like a younger sister to him. Of all the younger Starks, it was Arya who’d always had the stubbornness to never take no for an answer whenever he and Robb thought themselves too cool to spend time with them. 

“She’s good. I met a training partner of Arya’s at work a few months back.”

“That……doesn’t sound good.” Jon winced. 

His mother laughed. “Uhm, no. I’m not sure what kind of training they were doing, but the kid wound up in plaster from his elbow to his shoulder. I’m not sure I’d want to cross Arya – even without a sword in her hand.”

“Nor would I”, Jon agreed. He took a drink of his beer while the server removed their plates. 

“So…….” Once they were alone again, his mother developed a glint in her eyes. One that Jon knew would not likely lead anywhere good. “Robb’s brought this girl home. When are you going to bring some poor girl back home to try and please me?”

“There isn’t anyone”, Jon shrugged. Part of him got why she thought there would be. He hadn’t been single for longer than a few months since he was fifteen and started seeing Jonelle Cerwyn. That had lasted all of six weeks and three trips to the movies – plus a school dance. His first date with Ygritte had been a fortnight later. They’d been together until graduation, and Jon had met Val a little before his first Christmas at WHU. 

Jon supposed he could turn around and tell his mother – or anyone else who asked – that he was concentrating on his studies, but the truth was that since Val he hadn’t met anyone he was attracted to enough to date. 

“Don’t end up like me, too independent to let anyone else in.” Jon looked Lyanna in the eye and nodded. 

“I won’t”, he promised. Once again, Jon cursed Rhaegar Targaryen. “Hey, come here.” 

Jon scooted along the curved bench in the alcove they were sitting in and pulled his mother into a tight hug. 

“Being maudlin stops now”, his mother told him when they separated. “I don’t want to get sad drunk tonight.”

“I don’t want you to get _drunk_ tonight”, Jon replied. He recalled with mild horror – and more than a hint of amusement – the night out he and Robb had been on their first summer home during under-grad. His mother had been out celebrating the engagement of one of her nurses and they’d ended up in the same pub. Lyanna had gone out hours before Jon and Robb and at the end of the night it had been left to a mostly-sober Jon to help her into a taxi and home to bed. 

“What if I solemnly swear I am up to no good?” Lyanna asked cheekily, quoting their favourite Harry Potter movie. 

“Then neither am I!” Jon downed the remainder of his beer. They could look after each other as they always had. 

“So this is where the party is, then.” Jon jumped up at the sound of Arya’s voice and pulled her into a tight hug. “Urgh, let go Snow.” Arya’s grip tightened and then she stepped back, allowing Jon to once again take in the contrast that was Robb’s sisters. 

While Arya was short and tied her short, dark hair back from her face, Sansa was tall and allowed her red hair to flow down her back unchecked. While Arya was dressed in jeans and an over-sized leather jacket Jon figured was probably Gendry’s, Sansa wore a skirt and summer sandals. Strangers would be shocked they were sisters, but Jon knew they shared the same stubborn Stark nature and defiant loyalty to those they cared for. 

“Hey. Robb and Jeyne are at the bar”, said Sansa. Jon smiled at her. 

“Hey. You should both grab the comfy seats before they get here”, Lyanna told them. Jon scooted along the bench closer to where his mother sat, and Arya immediately crowded in next to him and started talking a mile a minute about finally getting her quad bike back after Rickon’s joyride on it. 

“The little wildling will stay away from it if he knows what’s good for him”, Arya huffed. “I went through hell persuading the parentals to let me have that bike!”

“I had such a thing for guys on motorbikes when I was a bit younger than you”, Lyanna sighed. “Now I see the other side of them – and quads.”

Jon glanced over at the bar and saw Robb wasn’t too far from being served. He saw Sansa sitting at the end of the bench, glancing around the pub. He figured she’d already heard Arya’s complaints since the moment she set foot in Wintertown. 

“You enjoying the break at home?” Jon asked her, taking advantage of Arya leaning forwards to start a conversation with Sansa. Sansa nodded.

“Definitely. Last semester was pretty heavy going. How about you? Dad said you’re interning with us over the summer?”

“Yeah. I’m really looking forward to getting started.” It would be his first real experience of legal work, and Jon couldn’t wait. He’d been working towards this for years – ever since Ned Stark had spoken at Wintertown High Career Day and sixteen year old Jon had been enthralled by the possibilities of it all. 

Some might see the practice of law as boring outside of fancy show trials, but it was all Jon had wanted to do since. It was the reason he’d worked for extra credit to get the scholarship he needed to WHU. 

Sansa let out a soft laugh. “You say that now, but an hour in on your first day when you’re wading through the complexities of getting IT to sort out your logins and printer access……..”

“I’m sure I can muddle through. If it comes to it, I can always call Tormund.” He was training to be an ethical hacker and could find his way into any computer system. If he wanted to, Jon figured Tormund could probably hack into the systems used by Westerosi Intelligence. 

“The one that looks like a big red bear?” Sansa’s eyes squinted as she tried to remember something. Robb must have posted a bunch of pictures on Facebook or whatever. 

“I’ve never heard that description but it sounds pretty accurate”, Jon grinned. He glanced up and saw Robb and Jeyne walking towards them with a round of drinks. 

“White wine, beer, beer and beer”, Robb muttered as he set down the drinks he’d purchased. He wrapped a now free arm around Jeyne. Jon watched curiously as he introduced her. “Lyanna, this is Jeyne. Jeyne, this is Lyanna.”

“Nice to meet you. Jon’s told me a lot about you. I understand you’re the person I have to thank for making sure my boy eats something other than sandwiches for dinner”, said Lyanna. 

_Interesting start, Jon thought._

Jeyne simply snorted and took the seat opposite his mother. “I’m afraid my talents extend as far as a pot of spaghetti and sauce. I never was much interested in being stuck in a kitchen. So, I understand from Robb that you’re the one I have to look out for if we shoot some pool this evening?”

Lyanna grinned. “I like this one, Robb Stark.”

-

Three hours and several rounds of drinks later, Jon finally gave in and agreed to a few games of pool. He shot his mother a look, silently reminding her that they would _not_ be gambling here. She could go out hustling with her girlfriends when he returned to White Harbour at the end of the summer. 

“Three teams of two. How do we sort this out fairl – “ Arya began.

“Jeyne and I are a team”, Robb piped up. Jon stifled a laugh at that. He knew why Robb had done that, and it had nothing to do with his affection for Jeyne. Sansa was smiling at them, clearly happy to see Robb so relaxed and content with Jeyne. 

“How about you and me, Little Stark?” Jon heard his mother suggest to Arya. 

“Works for me.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me”, said Sansa, nudging Jon. “I apologise in advance – I’m nowhere near as good as any of you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just sit back and enjoy the show. And I’m going to get a bit of a kick out of this one.” Sansa looked at him quizzically, but Jon simply bit his lip and shook his head. He turned to the rest of their group. “Why don’t you guys start us off and the loser plays Sansa and I?”

“Sounds good”, Jeyne agreed. She swallowed the rest of her glass of wine and set the empty glass down on the table they’d moved to, next to where the pool tables and dart boards were. “Toss a coin to see who breaks?”

“Here.” Robb held out a silver stag and set it down on the pool table. Jeyne called the toss and won. 

Jon held back a grin as Robb set up the table for Jeyne. He leaned in to Sansa and whispered in her ear. “Watch this.” Sansa quirked an eyebrow in his direction, but said nothing. Jon nudged her gaze in the direction of his mother as Jeyne struck the ball and broke, potting two red balls immediately. One in each of the pockets at the far end. 

“She’s good”, Sansa breathed. 

“Oh, yeah. I almost wish I hadn’t stopped my mother from gambling tonight.” Sansa laughed. “What? When it comes to pool, someone needed to bring her down a peg or two. I’ve had to listen to her lord it over me and Robb for years that she’s better than both of us put together – no matter how much she tries to teach us.”

“If I didn’t know how much you and Lyanna care about each other, I’d say you were jealous, Jon Snow”, Sansa told him. 

“Just a little more mischievous than I’m sometimes given credit for.” Jon turned his attention to his mother, who was watching Jeyne clear the table, leaving easy shots for Robb to pot in between her own.

“You’re good”, Lyanna told Jeyne, shaking her hand at the end, having never been able to take to the table. “Very good.”

“Perhaps I should come clean – my brother Ray plays semi-professionally.” Jon, who had known this since his meeting with Jeyne’s brother when Raynald had been playing a tournament in White Harbour during the winter, feigned a look of innocence at the revelation. 

His mother simply turned to Robb and grinned. “Robb Stark – you keep hold of this one. She’s a keeper. But, for your sneakiness, I figure it to be your round next.”

“I can live with that.” Robb took hold of Jeyne’s hand and led her off in the direction of the bar. A moment later, Jon felt a finger poke him in the side.

“Cheeky little monster, you knew she was good.”

“I may or may not have seen Jeyne play pool in White Harbour”, Jon shrugged. 

“May or may not have, my ass”, Lyanna snorted. “Come on. I’ll let you two break.”

“You should start”, Sansa told him. Jon moved forward and set the table up again. When it was ready, he broke. Unlike Jeyne, however, he potted only one ball. Sansa stepped up, looking nervously around the table. 

“Take your time.” In a way, Jon was pleased he’d ended up with Sansa as a partner. Unlike his mother and Arya, she wasn’t over-competitive in a bad way when it came to sports and games, ingrained in a need to win at all costs (though Jon supposed Rickon was really the Stark guiltiest of _that_ ).

And there was a calmness to Sansa he appreciated. When they’d been teamed together at Stark Game Nights during their childhood and adolescence, Sansa and Bran had been the only two never to whine at Jon or complain when he made a mistake that cost them points, or even the game. That said, Jon had also seen Sansa loudly cheer Robb, Arya and Rickon on when they played sports competitively. 

“Good shot!” Jon clapped when Sansa potted a yellow ball and kept their turn going. He stepped up, but fluffed the ball when Arya unhelpfully yelled as he struck the cue.

“Drinks time!” 

“Menace”, Jon told her as he bumped their shoulders. 

Arya simply shrugged, raising her bottle of beer to his. “Cheers.”

His mother had set down her beer and was settling on which shot to take when Jon felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out to find a text from Sam.

_Gilly said yes!!! We’re getting married!!!_

The text was followed by a series of emojis that had Jon questioning how much of the text had been composed by Sam, and how much of it had been Gilly hijacking his phone. It didn’t matter, though, Jon knew as he felt his face grow into a broad grin. He and Sam had clicked quickly in their under-grad classes and Jon knew they’d be friends for life, just as he and Robb would. 

“Sam and Gilly are getting married!” Jon announced, quickly moving round to the other side of the table to show the text to Robb. They were reading it when another one came through.

_Goes without saying that I want you to be my best man. Still to decide on a date. Speak to you soon!_

“Did you have any idea they were thinking about getting engaged?” Jeyne asked him.

Jon cocked his head. “I sort of had an inkling, but Sam never said anything specific about proposing.” Sam had spoken to him vaguely about how he and Gilly were going to start saving for a deposit on a _“starter home”_ in the ‘burbs now he had finished his year of teacher training and got a job at White Harbour Academy. And while not everyone married now compared to previous generations, they’d been together for almost all of the five years Jon had known Sam. He could still remember the hours they spent in the library, where Gilly restocked the shelves, alternating between studying and trying to get Sam the confidence to ask Gilly out on a date.

“Back in a minute”, he heard his mother say in the background as Jeyne muttered her way through a congratulatory text to Gilly, leaning into Robb. 

“Sam’s a good friend?” Sansa asked. Jon nodded. He explained how they’d met, and how Sam – and subsequently Gilly – had come into the fold of the friendship group he and Robb had built around themselves in White Harbour. “It sounds an amazing place to study. A great student community.”

Jon thought he heard a wistful tone in her voice, but checked himself. Sansa loved the South and had always wanted to go there. He imagined she had made far more friends than he and Robb put together.

“Here we go!” Jon turned round to see his mother returned with a bartender carrying two bottles of sparkling wine and six glasses. He furrowed his brows, but she simply shrugged as the bartender topped off the glasses with fizz.

“To Sam and Gilly”, his mother said. Jon smiled, and repeated her words. 

“To Sam and Gilly!”


	4. Brothers & Sisters

Jon walked into the Stark property a little after nine thirty on Monday morning carrying a breakfast bagel in one hand and a large black coffee in the other. 

On Saturday night at _Castle Black_ , he and Robb had made vague plans to work out while Jeyne went to _Wolfswood Spa_ with Sansa and Catelyn. This had been followed up with a text the following afternoon saying Gendry would be there too as Monday was his day off, and he’d be able to service both their cars. It was on Jon’s to-do list for the week as he wanted to make sure his old rust bucket would make it through the summer. Robb most likely wanted to make sure his was alright before the long drive to Lannisport on Saturday. 

His mother had intended to come over and have coffee with Catelyn while Gendry serviced her car first, but she’d been called into work after their already low staffing levels were worsened by two of Lyanna’s nurses calling in sick. Jon had seen her off with a wave and a promise that he’d fix scrambled eggs on toast (one of her favourites) for dinner that night. It was one of the few meals he could make without thinking too hard about it. Jon had learned how for Mother’s Day during his teenage years.

“That looks amazing”, said Robb, his eyes taking in the bagel. Jon grinned. Jeyne had, of late, been on a bit of a health kick (the odd takeout after a night at the pub aside). Which meant, in turn, that _Robb_ had been on a bit of a health kick. It wasn’t at all extreme – just an attempt at eating a proper breakfast, cutting down on junk food and increasing her water intake more than anything – but it did preclude Robb from regularly having what Jon did for breakfast. 

Jon simply shrugged. “I fancied a bit more than just toast. If we’re going to work out then I should at least eat something to give me the energy to try and keep up with Arya.”

Jon had yet to meet anyone as serious about their fitness as Arya, who stuck to a tight regime in her efforts to build a professional fencing career. A few beers on a night out and a pizza now and then formed the limit on treats she would allow herself. As Arya had told him before, professional sportsmen and women shouldn’t be eating fries and ketchup for dinner on a regular basis. 

Arya could out run Jon and Robb, had more stamina on the rowing and cycle machines, and the boys were waiting for the day she would be able to out-lift them despite seemingly being around half their size. 

“Yeah, your bagel won’t help you with that”, Robb told him. “Come through to the kitchen. Jeyne and Sansa are making us poached eggs and banana smoothies.” With that, Robb took another longing look at Jon’s bagel before turning and walking through the house, following the smell of cooking.

“Morning.” Jon lifted his coffee in greeting. Jeyne was cooking eggs while Sansa seemingly prepared their banana smoothies. “Where is everyone this morning?”

He assumed Ned Stark was at work at this time on a Monday, but he would’ve expected Catelyn to be around – or Arya, given she was to work out with them. 

“Mother insisted on going to the fruit market this morning, Arya spent the night at Gendry’s, and Bran and Rickon have yet to surface”, Sansa told him. “Would you like a smoothie? We have enough bananas to make them for four.”

“A small one”, Jon agreed. Robb was right – his bagel probably wasn’t the best way to prepare for a workout. Besides, he had long since learned that Sansa was the antithesis of her brother in the kitchen. He could still remember the chocolate cake she made to celebrate Robb’s graduation last summer. 

Jon took a seat at the breakfast bar in the Stark kitchen and watched idly while Jeyne and Sansa worked and Jeyne joked that she was only a step up from Robb when it came to cooking, and as such was only allowed to work on simple things. 

“Cooking is like a science experiment”, Sansa told them. “You have a list of instructions and things to be added in a particular order at a particular time. As long as you stick to the amounts and the order and timings, then it’ll all be fine.”

“Cooking as science.” Robb looked thoughtful. “Or Potions.”

Jon felt a smile grow. He and Robb had grown up with Harry Potter. 

“If we’re comparing it to Potions, then I’m at Ron Weasley level”, Jeyne told them decisively. “Robb, I’m afraid that in this instance you and Jon are Neville Longbottom. Sansa is Hermione Granger, and your mother is Snape.”

Robb burst out laughing.

“I mean that in the nicest possible way!” Jeyne insisted. She had just dried her hands and flicked the towel she was holding in Robb’s direction. “Doesn’t his old textbook prove how good he was naturally? Your mother’s cooking is like that. I’m complimenting her!”

“You’ll be alright, Jeyne. So far as I can recall, Catelyn never read Harry Potter”, Jon reassured her. 

“Even if she had read it, I know I’m not the only person who thinks Snape wasn’t all bad. What he did was in Lily’s memory”, said Sansa. 

“Gods, you can be such a sap sometimes!” Jon turned to see Arya and Gendry standing in the door way. 

Jon thought it best to change the subject before Arya and Robb started arguing about Dumbledore’s _Deathly Hallows_ arc. More than once it had subsided into a screaming match. Instead, he tactfully asked if anyone had seen the Sunday night football match. 

“Bear Island were on it”, said Robb. “The score completely flattered Storm’s End. The Bears might have won it in the last minute, but they were on top from the first. Storm’s End just got lucky.”

“And Grandison had an amazing match in defence”, Gendry added.

“No football talk!” Jeyne insisted, handing a pile of cutlery to Robb. “Sansa and I have decided we are a football-free zone, haven’t we?”

“We have”, Sansa agreed. 

“Since when?” Arya asked. She sat down at the kitchen table, Gendry slotting into a seat beside her. 

“Since Robb and dad spent most of last night shouting at the TV and the contents of their beer and wine glasses ended up all over the carpet.”

Jon coughed and spluttered, a mouthful of his coffee catching in his throat. He could imagine the scene vividly in his mind. Robb always seemed to get Ned all riled up over football. The two of them had been supporting Wintertown Direwolves since before Jon had met Robb when they started school and were passionate about their sport. Jon knew that a win for the Bears, however narrow, would greatly benefit the Direwolves and their attempt to win the WFL for the first time in two decades. 

Sansa patted Jon on the back. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Here’s your smoothie.”

-

Sansa sighed happily as the masseuse kneaded her shoulders. _Wolfswood Spa_ had been one of her favourite treats for years. And her favourite part of her favourite treat had always been a massage. She could feel the tension leave her shoulders and it was as if a physical weight she’d been dragging around with her had been removed. 

The last few months had been so, so stressful and lonely and Sansa hadn’t had time to come for a massage during her last trip home as exam preparation had filled her days. Between her studies and the oppressive loneliness and homesickness she’d experienced, the lightness that normally surrounded her had gone. 

Now, though…..now, Sansa could begin to feel a bit of that lightness return. As if she were approaching a curve that would allow her to finally see the end of the tunnel. Four weeks on Friday would see her in White Harbour for an appointment with the Admissions Administrator. This time in five weeks, perhaps she would know her future path.

Sansa remained undecided on her next course of action should she be unsuccessful. The reality was that WHU was the only place she could study in the North at the same level. The other Northern universities were not as highly regarded – except save Dreadfort, perhaps, but it concentrated on scientific study. The medical school there was the second highest rated in Westeros overall after Oldtown, and top for those considering specialising in forensic pathology.

As the masseuse moved on to her neck, Sansa contemplated Moat Cailin College. It wasn’t too far away, was only a single step down on the academic ladder, and had a good Arts & Social Sciences faculty. It was boggy country to be sure, and there was a lot of rain there, but it would remove her from the toxic atmosphere in King’s Landing. There was a part of Sansa that never wanted to venture below the Neck again – unless it meant visiting her aunts, uncles and cousins in the Vale and Riverlands. 

It was so, so good to be home. Even if Robb was to be in Lannisport all summer. She had her family around her again. Two years ago Sansa had been desperate to get to KLU and take the first steps into independent living and _the first day of the rest of her life and all that_ …..but now she could see both how naïve she had been and the importance of her family. Her father had always been a stickler for family time – as had her mother – and Sansa now fully recognised the value of it. 

She enjoyed Arya and Robb’s _debates_ about Harry Potter, Robb and her father loudly cheering on their favourite football team and driving everyone else to distraction with it and Rickon making as much noise as Sansa was sure the rest of them had put together.

These thoughts had come to her time and time again over the last few months and had only magnified in frequency and intensity since she’d come home for the summer. It had been less than a week and Sansa was just starting to feel like she might soon become whole again. The innocent girl who moved to the South was long gone, but Sansa also now felt like she was shaking off the shackles of the shell that had taken her place. 

One thing was for sure, she decided. WHU acceptance or not, Sansa was _not_ returning to KLU next semester. She had proven herself there academically and could leave in that regard with her head held high. 

“Urngh”, she sighed as the masseuse gave the shoulders she had returned to a final knead. The massage was over. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Give yourself a moment and then get up slowly. I’ll leave you to sort yourself out.” The masseuse closed the door tightly behind her, permitting Sansa the privacy she preferred to redress in. 

She removed the towel that covered her lower half and sought out the bikini top and cover-up she’d worn into the room. Sansa had worn a loose lemony crepe top and denim cut-offs over her bikini. She had to be suitably attired to eat lunch in the dining area of the spa, but to save time it was usually easier to wear her swimsuit or bikini underneath for the afternoon that would be spent in and by the pool.

Jeyne was in the next room getting a manicure, while her mother had opted for a foot massage. Sansa wondered if they had finished yet. A look at the clock told her it was a little after one, and time for lunch. They’d begun their visit at ten-thirty by moving round the sauna and relaxation stations and then moved on to beauty treatments. 

In the dining area, Sansa immediately spotted Jeyne on the other side of the room, a glass of champagne in her hand. Jeyne waved her over and was instantly apologetic about getting started early.

“Don’t worry about it”, Sansa assured her, before admitting she would have done precisely the same thing. As their driver for the day, her mother would be sticking to water while Jeyne and Sansa indulged themselves. “Wow, that manicure is beautiful.”

“Yeah, I quite like it too. I wouldn’t normally have gone for something like that – my nails have such a habit of breaking or polish getting chipped that I mostly don’t bother doing anything more than filing them – but it was just so tempting to get something pretty rather than practical. I don’t tend to be that sort of person.”

“I’m less that sort of person than I used to be”, Sansa confided. She poured herself a glass of champagne. The South had made her see how there was beauty as well as necessity in the practical. 

“How was the massage?”

“Heavenly”, Sansa sighed. “I wish I could go for one more often. Perhaps I will in future. Oh, cheers!”

“Cheers.” Jeyne clinked their glasses and told Sansa all about a spa she’d been to a couple of times with her mother and sister. She was a great storyteller and Sansa could begin to picture it in her mind’s eye. 

Sansa had found herself liking Jeyne very much. There was no pretention about her. She was someone secure in both herself and her place in the world – or, at the very least, gave the impression of being outwardly so but not in an obnoxious way. Above all, Jeyne genuinely loved and cared for Robb, and as a sister that was all that really mattered to Sansa. Jeyne made her brother ridiculously happy. And while there remained a part of her that was a little jealous of what they’d found together, Sansa could never truly begrudge her big brother anything. 

They had got to know each other well over the weekend, from the night out at _Castle Black_ to their mutual groaning at the amount of football talk in the house. Sansa hoped this was only the beginning of a close friendship. 

Sansa had not made a new friend – close or otherwise – in a long time. Not since the day she’d been assigned Mya Stone as a roommate and discovered they could co-exist and make conversation. 

“How do you think Arya is getting on with the boys?” Jeyne asked, picking up a strawberry from the fruit plate sitting on the table between them.

“Kicking their asses. She trains at least five days a week – sometimes six – and could quite easily consider a future in mixed martial arts or be a famous personal trainer. Seriously. Arya is stubborn – we all are, really – and this is how her stubborn and determined nature manifests itself. When we were growing up it was hard to get the two of us interested in the same things. In the end our parents found a yoga class we were both willing to take. I could exercise without getting into a nasty sweat and Arya knew stretching and flexibility would be useful to her.”

“Robb did tell me that your friendship with Arya was far more recent than his with either of you”, Jeyne admitted.

“We appreciate each other so much more now. I know I can trust Arya just as I can trust Robb. _And_ I’ve expanded my exercise regime, countering my fear of sweat.” Sansa liked running now. Hammering the streets around King’s Landing or Wintertown allowed her to clear her mind. She could get away from anything that was bothering her – albeit temporarily – and concentrate solely on the pounding of her feet and the beating of her heart.

That reminded Sansa – she would need to see if there was a summer yoga class nearby and set aside two or three evenings a week to go for a run. 

“I don’t know that I’d say my sister and I have ever really been close. Eleyna……has always been our mother’s daughter. I’m more our father’s daughter. Things like social class and town gossip don’t really interest me. Can I be honest?” Sansa nodded. “I know all of you are disappointed Robb is coming to Lannisport with me for the summer – “

“It’s more that he won’t be here. We have no objection to _you_.” Sansa wanted to make that clear. She knew from speaking to her brothers and sister over the last couple of days that they much preferred Jeyne to any other girl Robb had brought home, and her parents had been nothing but praiseworthy, kind and open. Their reaction to Jeyne had been the antithesis to the one she’d experienced on the visit to King’s Landing in which they had met Joffrey. 

Jeyne smiled. “Thank you. It’s very sweet of you. And I hope you all know in return that I’ve been loving getting to know Robb’s family now and when I came to visit before. If it wasn’t for my father, I wouldn’t be going to Lannisport for the summer. He arranged the internship for me – I’ll be working with a very old friend of his.”

“So you couldn’t turn it down”, Sansa deduced. Jeyne nodded. “He obviously misses you.”

“As I said, Eleyna is very much like my mother, Ray is travelling so much…….at least after this year Rollam will be at home more. He’s doing a few semesters in Essos – Volantis, actually. My mother’s family were originally Essosi. Rolly is studying Anthropology at Casterly and they have a good study abroad programme. This semester will be his last one away. With him at home, I think my father will be a bit more at ease.”

_More at ease……..or less insistent that Jeyne return home for the summer._ Sansa could read between the lines better than anyone after her time at KLU. It looked very much like when – and Sansa had come over the last couple of days to see it was _when_ and not _if_ – Robb and Jeyne graduated and married, she would be gaining a sister far more than she would be losing a brother. 

-

Into the ninth kilometre on the treadmill, Jon really began to feel the lack of time he’d had for exercise in general, and particularly his running, over the last couple of months. His study and exam schedule had been so punishing that it had pushed almost everything else to the side for a time. When he went back next semester, he’d have to organise his time better to prevent it happening again.

“Starting to wilt there, Snow?” Jon grimaced at Arya’s grinning face. She was sparring over the other side of the barn Ned Stark had converted into a gym when it became clear just how dedicated to sport his second daughter would be. All the family used it, but it was Arya’s interest in sport that had prompted him to contract Norrey & Co. builders to carry out the work.

Jon slowed his pace down and altered the setting to walking. 

“I’m a little out of practice”, he panted, grabbing the bottle of water Robb had given him. He downed more than half of it instantly and moved himself off the machine. 

“I would laugh at you, but I only managed half the time you did when I was on the bike. You and I could train for a month of Sundays, but we still wouldn’t come close to managing what this one can do”, Robb told him. He had been holding the punching bag for Arya but moved away to throw a towel over at Jon. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Jon moved over towards the weights and did some stretches to calm his leg muscles down after his run. He’d always enjoyed running. As a teenager it had helped him more than he could’ve realised at the time. Whenever he felt a little down about something, or one of the other kids had pushed his buttons by taunting him over his lack of a father, or he was being pulled in seven different directions by the changes puberty wrought on his mind and body, Jon would go out for a run and would – without exception –feel better at the end of it. 

Running cleared the mind – or it did his, at any rate. 

He eyed the weights Arya had started off their training session with and decided he’d have a go at that next. 

“That’s me done.” Jon looked up to see Gendry throwing a set of car keys in his direction. “There was a couple of things I needed to update, but I had the parts with me. Small ones, and I got them from scrap so no, you don’t owe me anything for them. I’ve checked the water and the oil and pumped up the tyres. The car will see you through the summer, but I won’t guarantee it until this time next year.”

“I can live with that.” Jon was a careful driver and was cautious when it came to putting his car through too much – but there was a reason he referred to it as his _rust bucket_. He needed it to last as long as possible, though the money he’d earn this summer would help out if his car died a death in the next twelve months. “And thank you.”

Gendry might say he wasn’t owed anything for the work, but he wouldn’t turn down free drinks as payment in kind the next time he was out with Robb and Jon. 

“I’ve sorted yours too, Robb”, Gendry continued. “There wasn’t much that needed doing. But, she’s all ready for a long run down to Lannisport. You going to get it all done in a single day?”

“We’ll see. We want to, but it depends on how early we get away. You coming over for dinner on Friday?” 

“Yeah.”

Jon had also been invited. He knew how much Catelyn would miss Robb over the summer, coming home for only a week before heading off again. She’d arranged a sort of farewell dinner for him – and Jeyne – the night before they were due to leave. Jon had readily accepted. He’d miss Robb. 

Although they had never met, Jon knew he had a half-brother and half-sister in the South, the children of his father and step-mother – another two people he had never met. If asked, however, Jon would say that _Robb_ was the closest thing he had to a brother. 

They had met on their first day of school at Wintertown Primary and been assigned seats at the same table when the new teacher, Miss Flint, had arranged the classroom alphabetically – partly, Jon thought, as a way of making sure they all knew their ABCs. The two boys, so very different from one another, had become fast friends. Throughout their education, Jon had always attended the same school as Robb. The two of them hadn’t gone as long without seeing each other in person as they would this summer since the year Catelyn Stark’s father had died. 

Catelyn had taken Robb and the rest of them to the Riverlands a few days before term ended and they hadn’t returned until the day before school went back. Jon had worked for most of that summer, at the small shop in Wintertown General. He’d been sixteen and spent all his free time with Ygritte, exploring their new relationship. 

Robb knew all of Jon’s secrets – including the truth of his father’s identity (something known by only a handful of people in Jon’s life outside himself and his mother) – and he doubted Robb kept any from him. In all ways other than blood, _Robb_ was Jon’s brother. 

“You’re coming to my match on Wednesday night too, aren’t you?” Arya’s voice cut through Jon’s thoughts. 

“Definitely.” Arya had gone on at length on Saturday night about the new girl who had started competing in her category, refusing to call this new rival by her name and referring to her only as _the waif_. 

“You might get to see her up against her nemesis”, Gendry grinned. Arya glared at him. “Hey! You’re the one who called her that first.”

“That’s not the point. But, yeah, you might get to see me fight the new girl. If she makes it far enough through the competition.”

Jon looked around him at the gym equipment, considering just how hard Arya worked and how determined she was. She’d have to be a seasoned professional to beat Arya. “I feel sorry for the new girl.”

-

“It is such a shame we can’t do this every day – or at least every week”, Jeyne sighed. The three of them lay on recliners next to the pool. With the salmon she’d had for lunch still weighing on her stomach, Sansa had yet to go for a swim. All three of them had, in fact, yet to move.

“If a treat becomes too commonplace we don’t value it enough, isn’t that right?” Sansa turned to her mother, who laughed. 

“Quite right. But I’m pleased you’re both enjoying yourselves. You’ll be working hard all summer so it’s nice to have a week or so to relax beforehand. After a busy semester you deserve a break.”

“I’m with you on that one”, said Jeyne. “Most of the free time Robb and I will have over the summer has already been accounted for. We want to make the most of being in the Westerlands and play tourists. As I said the other night at dinner, we’ve got plans to go to Fair Isle, but there’s lots of other things to see and do there. Plus, Uncle Rolph has his sixtieth birthday in just over a fortnight, so there’ll be a big family celebration for that.”

“That reminds me, Sansa, Edmure’s fortieth will be at the start of next year. I’ll need to contact Roslin and see if they’ve anything planned.” 

Neither Sansa nor her mother mentioned to Jeyne that Roslin had first come into contact with the Starks after she and Robb had met at a teenage disco one summer in the Riverlands – back when Grandpa Hoster had been alive and they’d taken long visits during the school break. Sansa had once caught sight of Robb with his tongue down Roslin’s throat, and she wrinkled up her nose at the thought of it. 

Somehow, between that summer and Sansa’s sixteenth birthday, Roslin had met and married their Uncle Edmure. Ros was now her aunt by marriage of three years and mother to Sansa’s cousins, Olyvar and Bethany. There was a third on the way. 

“When is Roslin due again?”

“She’s got around three months to go.”

“Aunt Lysa still……. _concerned?_ ” Sansa wasn’t sure what other word there was to describe the outburst that had apparently taken place when her aunt discovered Ros was pregnant again. According to Arya, Lysa had worked herself up into a fit and yelled at Edmure that three children in four years was excessive. Sansa wondered if Lysa had yet forgiven Edmure and Roslin for marrying while she was seven months pregnant with Olyvar. 

“She is worried about how Roslin will manage if Edmure gets that promotion he’s after and has to travel more often for work, I think.” _In other words, yes, Aunt Lysa still had misgivings about the situation._ Her mother turned to Jeyne. “I’m sure you’ll be looking forward to seeing your family again.”

“As much as they are looking forward to seeing me”, Jeyne replied.

“I think I’ll go for a swim now. Jeyne, Sansa, are you joining me or staying here?”

“I’m going to stay out of the water for a while.” Feeling her lunch still moving around, Sansa agreed with Jeyne but encouraged her mother to leave them. 

“I’m sure Robb told you that our mother grew up near the Trident. She can swim like a fish and she’s always first in the water whenever we’re on holiday.”

“He did.” Jeyne yawned. “I could go for a nap before I could manage a swim. How about you? How are you feeling about this summer? Have you interned at your father’s firm before?”

“I was there last summer.” Sansa had come home from King’s Landing still feeling fragile about Joffrey, Margaery and her other former friends. It had helped to spend those weeks working with people who held the name _Stark_ in such high esteem – even if it was down to her father rather than Sansa herself.

“My father has good people working for him, and the legal interns are all so engrossed in learning their craft. It’s a good work environment. Mostly I help out with some research and go through depositions. I think my father said one of his friends from the Vale has a daughter working with us this summer. I’ve never met her. And Jon will be there, of course.”

Sansa had grown a little wary of new people and it would be helpful to have someone she knew so well. So much of her own internship – she called it that but really it was more of a summer job arranged by her father – involved helping out the legal interns. 

“Jon is such a sweetheart”, said Jeyne. “I cannot say enough nice things about him. Really, cannot.”

Sansa was pleased. She knew from experience that having your friends be supportive of your relationship was important. It mattered so much more than anyone ever told her it would.

“I remember back at the start of the year – Robb and I had only been together a little over two months – I was completely stressed out with a paper that was due just into the semester and the girls in rooms next to me in student housing were constantly partying. _Loudly_. Robb and Jon – the two of them gave up the bulk of their weekend to help me figure out that damn essay. When we finally finished it, Jon went out to get the three of us Braavosi food and a couple of bottles of wine.”

“He tutored me in mathematics for a while when we were in school. There was a module I really couldn’t get my head around and I know he did it because _Robb_ _asked_ , but those few weeks he helped me make sense of chaos helped so much. So, yeah, I understand.”

Sansa thought back to those few weeks and felt a little guilty she and Jon hadn’t spent much time together after. She couldn’t understand why – after all, he had been so kind to her. It had made her realise how lucky Robb had been to make such a friend. 

“I’ve been so lucky to make as many new friends as I have through Robb. Not just Jon, but Sam and Gilly, and the boys – Tormund, Edd, Grenn and Pyp. They’re a good bunch. Do you have any plans with your KLU friends for the summer?”

Sansa fidgeted with her crepe top. “Everyone I know at KLU is either travelling abroad or working over the summer. Like I am. I think I’m ready for a swim now. Will you come in too?”

“Perhaps in a bit. I can still feel the chicken I had for lunch swimming around. Go on yourself, though.”

Sansa pulled off her cover-up and stepped out of her denim cut-offs, before grabbing a hair tie and quickly braiding her long hair. 

She felt a little guilty and more than a little rude, but she didn’t want to have to admit to Robb’s girlfriend that she was essentially the only friend Sansa had at the moment – aside from those she had known since childhood. Even then, she had mostly lost touch with the likes of Beth. Sansa had been too eager to leave the North behind her. 

She had learned her lesson. 

-

Jon remained over at the Stark house until late afternoon. When he stopped off on his way home to pick up some groceries, he was relieved he had agreed to the Robb’s suggestion on Sunday that he take over a change of clothes and shower as soon as they were finished working out rather than leaving it until he returned home.

Part of him had wondered if his mother might get away from work early – she sometimes did after going in to cover a shift like this – but he heard nothing from her until a text message came through a little after seven.

_Sorry am running late. Will explain when I see you. Leave the scrambled eggs for tomorrow night. I’ll just order us a pizza when I get in. Have a surprise for you._

Jon was intrigued by the last part of her message, wondering just what she could be bringing back after a day at the _hospital_. 

His mother’s _surprise_ was evident the moment the front door opened and Jon – then in the kitchen making himself a coffee – heard a couple of yelps followed by a bark. And then a small, fluffy white dog pattered into the kitchen, running over to Jon. He bent down and patted the dog.

“Surprise!”

“You got us a dog? I didn’t know you were planning this.”

“I wasn’t.” His mother shrugged off the light jacket she wore over her uniform and took a small bowl from a carrier bag. She set it down on the ground and filled it with water. “I’m back in on my regular shift tomorrow.”

“We can do an internet search tonight, figure out what we need, and I’ll go to the pet shop tomorrow. How did this happen?”

His mother had spoken vaguely for years about wanting to get a dog when she was older and living alone. Jon had always assumed she’d meant that it would be nice to have a companion in her retirement. And that was more than two decades away. 

“We have a frequent flyer in the ER. Never on his own, always with at least one dog. He drank – a lot – but the dog or dogs always looked so well fed that we never did anything about it, other than spoil them. He, uhm, he died today.”

Jon pulled her into a hug. All these years in her profession, he knew it still upset her a little when a patient died. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffled into his shoulder. “I know it’s a bit silly, but – “

“You’re not silly. Not in this way, in any case. Does this little ball of fluff have a name?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” His mother pulled away, blew her nose and then bent down next to the dog. “He didn’t even have a collar on. He had three dogs with him today. I took them all to the shelter over the road from the hospital. I was going to leave them but something about this little guy just got to me. The on-call vet checked him out.”

At least that would mean that whichever bed the dog inevitably ended up sleeping on wouldn’t get covered in fleas. 

“He’s a husky”, she added. 

“Ghost”, Jon murmured, knowing that was the best name for this sweet little thing. “Your name is going to be Ghost.” He picked the dog up and got a nip of approval.

“I’m going to go order our pizza. Large meat feast with extra cheese?” Jon nodded. “We know each other far too well.”

Jon looked at the small ball of fluff in his arms and felt an instant connection. He’d always wanted a dog. When they were growing up, the Starks had a husky named Grey Wind. The upset caused in the family when Grey Wind had died of cancer the winter before Robb left for White Harbour had meant Ned and Catelyn were reticent about getting another dog. Going over to the house and playing with Grey Wind, a very jealous Jon had always wanted a dog of his own. 

“We’re going to get on just fine, aren’t we?” said Jon. “Yes, you and I are going to be great friends. And, when I’m in White Harbour, you get to be the man of the house.”

The dog barked and Jon took that as his agreement. 

“That’s the pizza ordered. Should be here in around half an hour.”

“Good.” Jon was hungry – with Catelyn Stark out with Sansa and Jeyne, lunch had consisted of sandwiches with some leftover roast chicken and omelettes Arya had put together for them. “Oh, I spoke to Gendry about your car. He’s booked you in for the end of next week like you asked. You’ve just to take it by the garage.”

“Ghost can come with me. We’ll go for a walk while we wait, won’t we boy?” Ghost barked and jumped out of Jon’s arms onto the ground. 

“Half an hour?” His mother nodded. Jon picked his phone up from the counter and opened up a new internet search page. “Grab a pen and some paper. Let’s try and figure out what we need for little Ghost here.”


	5. A Fond Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to all who have left both comments and kudos - I am really enjoying writing this story and your response has given me so much motivation with it!

“That’s me heading out”, said Jon. His mother was curled up on the sofa with Ghost with the TV remote in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. She’d had a long shift at the hospital and intended to have a quiet, lazy Friday night in front of the TV to compensate. “I shouldn’t be too late. Robb and Jeyne have an early start in the morning. He wants to make it to Lannisport tomorrow night so they have a full day to get organised before he starts work on Monday.”

“Take as long as you like.” His mother yawned widely and Ghost woofed in sympathy. “I doubt I’ll be awake long past nine. I need to be up at six in the morning for work.”

“Enjoy your trash TV.”

“ _Down in Dorne_ is not trash TV. It is a documentary series on the lives of twentysomethings in Dorne.”

“It is an excuse for Dornish twentysomethings to engage in wild partying and walk around half naked in front of cameras. And calling it _a documentary series_ doesn’t change that.”

“Just because it isn’t some three-part investigative journalism series or hard-hitting, edgy drama does not mean it isn’t good TV.”

Jon laughed. “Enjoy it anyway. I’ll see you later. Or tomorrow. I’ve filled up Ghost’s bowls, so you’ll just need to let him out back for a few minutes before you head to bed.”

“Alright. Have fun.”

Jon kissed her on the check, ruffled Ghost’s fur, and went outside to wait on his cab. He’d probably have a couple of glasses of wine with dinner and didn’t want to drive after. The last few days had passed by very quickly and he couldn’t quite believe Robb and Jeyne were heading away the following morning, nor that he was starting work on Monday. 

Most of his week had been spent preparing for work and settling in Ghost. He had run to the pet store on Tuesday and bought him everything advised by the websites he’d found to advise new dog owners – and a few things he probably didn’t need. 

Jumping into the cab, Jon though about the sweet little husky pup his mother had rescued. Ghost had quickly fit into their lives and into their hearts. Jon had taken him out for a few long walks and although he had a bed in the kitchen, Ghost had yet to sleep in it. It would be tough on him after the summer, when Jon was back in White Harbour and his mother working long hours, but perhaps Rickon could be prevailed upon to use up some of his energy by walking the pup?

It was a short drive to the Stark property, a little more than ten minutes, but Jon could drive or walk it in his sleep given how often he had been here. Jon smiled at the thought of the conversation he’d had with Arya on Monday – and how she’d made him promise to keep visiting over the summer, even although Robb was away. 

Monday…..that had been both a good workout and a wake-up call for Jon. Since then, aside from walking Ghost, he’d been out for a long cycle on Wednesday evening and gone for a run first thing that morning. He wasn’t sure how it would work out, jogging with the dog, but he figured it was worth a try soon – perhaps over the weekend if he had time. Jon would need to make sure he was fully prepared for work on Monday. He didn’t want to give Ned Stark pause to think he’d granted Jon a place in error. Jon wanted to prove himself worthy and knew he’d have to prove himself doubly so to some of the staff once it became clear how close he and Robb were. 

“Here you go, buddy”, the cab driver told him, pulling up outside the gate. Jon thanked the man, handed over the fare and tip and walked up to the front door. It was a little after seven, but given the time of year it was as light as the middle of the day. Jon glanced up at the sun and thought of the winter when he’d be lucky to see it for days at a time. 

It was Sansa that answered the door, full of smiles and thanks for the wine he’d brought. “We’ve already opened a couple of bottles, but I’ll put these through. Thank you, Jon. Go into the family room and I’ll bring you a glass of red.”

A small part of Jon was surprised Sansa knew he drank red wine. He was sure he’d only drunk beer in front of her before. Pushing the thought aside, he walked into the cosy part of the house referred to as the _family room_ by the Starks. Larger than any room in the house Jon shared with his mother, it had a widescreen TV, an abundance of couches and beanbags, and a drinks cabinet. 

Football highlights were on the muted TV as background entertainment. Robb and Jeyne occupied one sofa, Arya and Gendry another, Bran was idly reading a magazine, and Ned and Rickon seemed to be negotiating the end of his grounding. 

“…..some more hard work around the house and I may consider it.”

“But I’ve done hard work! I painted Sansa’s room and everything.”

“ _You helped me_ paint Sansa’s room.” Ned sighed. “Keep your nose clean over the next few days, swear yet again that you’ll never hijack Arya’s quad, and I’ll speak to your mother.”

“You’re the best, dad!”

Jon smiled. Sometimes he could be so jealous of this; of a large family all living on top of each other and bickering and supporting one another…..and at others he truly appreciated it was just he and his mother. 

“Evening”, said Jon. “All packed?”

“What do you think?” Jeyne grinned. 

“I think you’ll be squeezing stuff into the car around an hour after you intend to leave tomorrow”, said Jon honestly. He’d never known Robb to ever be ready to go when scheduled. There was always something he had forgotten. 

“Even if we are _slightly_ late leaving, we’ll still make it there in a single day”, grumbled Robb, gesturing to the bean bag next to the sofa he and Jeyne were sitting on. “We don’t intend on stopping anywhere for long, and all the Saturday football traffic will be heading in the opposite direction – I checked the fixture list the other night.”

Jon sat down and was pleasantly surprised at how stable his seat was; Catelyn must’ve bought new ones or had it puffed up or something, since he’d been back during the Spring. He turned to Arya. “Have you decided yet when your next tournament will be?” She’d been toying with two later on in the month, he knew.

“The Torrhen’s Square one. It is three weeks away, which gives me a long enough recovery period, and it isn’t too far away. I won’t have to take any time off from the camp I’m working at over the summer either.”

“Do you think _she’ll_ be there?”

“Who knows?” Arya shrugged. The girl he’d been told was Arya’s _great new nemesis_ had failed to turn up for the competition on Wednesday evening. Gendry had insisted she was probably scared of Arya. 

“Here’s your wine.” Sansa had come back into the room. “Dinner should be ready in around half an hour or so. Do you have any more pictures? Or videos?”

Jon smiled. Of all of them, Sansa had seemed the most excited about Ghost when Jon had turned up to Arya’s fencing competition on Wednesday evening with the news that he had a new dog. She’d cooed over all of the pictures he’d taken on his phone since Ghost had appeared on Monday and made him promise to bring him over at some point. 

He took out his phone and opened up the folder he’d set up for pictures of Ghost, then handed it to Sansa. “Swipe right to get to the next one.”

“So adorable!” she murmured, over and over again. Jon could hear the happiness in her voice. “And such a poser for the camera. You should set up an Instagram account for him. I can’t think of any good person who wouldn’t love to see pictures and videos of this little guy. Speaking of, do you have any videos?”

Jon took back his phone and saw that Sansa had worked her way through all the photographs he’d taken of Ghost since they’d last seen each other. He quickly opened up the only video he’d recorded so far. “It’s maybe not even a minute long.”

He saw the smile grow on her face as she watched Ghost run around the small garden at home, chasing after small tennis balls Jon kept throwing in different directions. Once the video had finished, Sansa sighed and handed him back his phone. “After I’ve graduated and found somewhere of my own, I am _definitely_ getting a dog.”

“I do wish sometimes that we’d got another dog”, put in Ned. “Maybe in the future we might revisit it.”

“I should go back through to the kitchen”, said Sansa. “I need to get back to the pie.”

“ _Apple_ pie?” Jon asked when Sansa had left the room. Jon loved Catelyn’s apple pie and he knew Sansa had been taught how to make it by her mother.

“Yep”, grinned Jeyne. Jon remembered a group of them all going out for dinner to celebrate the end of exams and Jeyne drooling over the apple pie they’d both had for dessert. “She’s also made chocolate cake.”

Jon could hear Robb’s stomach – at least he presumed it was Robb’s – rumble loudly. “I wish we had Sansa to cook for us more often.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with my cooking for the foreseeable future”, Jeyne told him.

“You could always learn to cook yourself”, Arya pointed out to her brother. Jon stifled a laugh at that. He – and his poor stomach – had experienced Robb’s cooking. Jon then winced at the memory of a night spent in the bathroom trying to recover from the chilli Robb had thoughtfully prepared for their first night as post-grads out of student housing. 

“As if you can make anything more complicated than an _omelette_ ”, Robb retorted. 

“At least I can make an omelette.”

-

Through in the kitchen, Sansa sprinkled some sugar on the top of the apple pie and set the tray to the side. It wouldn’t need to go into the oven yet; it would cook while they were eating their main course. 

When her mother had asked her to take care of dessert for Robb and Jeyne’s farewell feast, she had known instantly what she would make. Robb had loved her chocolate cake ever since the first time she’d shyly made it for her brother one wintry Saturday afternoon, when the Starks were kept inside by the gales and snowstorm battering the house. All it taken to discover Jeyne’s favourite dessert was a little light conversation during their spa lunch.

Sansa always found herself split in two at times like this. She had always loved helping her mother out in the kitchen, learning to cook and bake at a far younger age – and with more enthusiasm – than any of her siblings. It always brought a smile to her face to see the family enjoying something she had created herself, often from scratch. 

At the same time, however, Sansa wanted to be in the family room with the rest of them, chattering away about how they planned to spend their summers and curling up on the sofa. She’d always felt a little bit apart from her brothers and sister, but that had lessened in the last year or so. Now that she’d stopped talking about the magnificence of the South. Now that she spoke of the North as home and listened more, accepted more.

Joffrey had taught her many lessons, but for this one Sansa was oddly grateful.

“Set the table for me, would you, Sansa?” Her mother cut into her thoughts and Sansa immediately replied that she would. She pulled out the good cutlery and went to set the large table that sat to the back of the Stark’s vast kitchen. Sansa had always loved the smells of this room and they filled her senses now. 

She could smell the vast pork joint sizzling away in the oven, the garlic marinade her mother had made for the roast potatoes, the tangy orange of the marmalade covering the parsnips……her mouth watered at the mere thought of them. 

The table set, Sansa finally permitted herself a glass of wine. “Do you want one?”

“You can pour one out, thank you. And thank you again for your help, Sansa. I know you’d prefer to be through there with everyone else. It is much appreciated.”

“You’re welcome.” Sansa poured a second glass of white for her mother and put another bottle in the fridge to chill. Robb would likely not drink more than a couple of beers, wanting to keep a clear head for the long drive, but she was sure the rest of them would have a few each. 

Sansa knew her mother was feeling Robb’s departure keenly. It made Sansa wonder if her mother thought Jeyne may try to entice Robb to live permanently in the Westerlands. Sansa wished she could aid her mother by making it clear that Jeyne seemed to prefer the North and wanted to escape her own mother’s orbit. 

It also raised some more thoughts in Sansa’s mind……thoughts she had never considered before. _Is this how you are when I go to King’s Landing? Do you worry that I may go to the South one day, never to live in the North again?_

Was it selfish of her to only have just cottoned on to this? Her parents had always been so supportive of her, of all five of them, and their hopes and dreams that it never occurred to Sansa how they might feel about her studying so far away, or Arya’s focus on sport over academia. They had converted an out-building into a gym to aid Arya’s attempts to carve a professional fencing career, supported Robb financially when he studied at WHU to allow him to focus on his studying, spent hours scouring bookshops for the fancy _Southron_ lit-crit books she would need to prepare for her studies at KLU.

A pinging noise brought Sansa out of her thoughts. The timer on the oven had gone off. The food was ready. When her mother removed the joint from the oven, Sansa placed her apple pie inside and reset the temperature gauge. There seemed to be so much food, but Sansa had no doubt that every morsel would be consumed. 

Rickon didn’t seem to understand the concept of _leftovers_. 

Fifteen minutes later, Sansa felt vindicated in her suspicions as she saw Rickon add another large helping of pork loin to his plate. He seemed to have commandeered all of the fatty crackling set to the side of the meat, as well as three times as much meat as Sansa herself. 

_He’s a growing boy._ Sansa heard her mother’s voice. And it did not seem to be doing him much harm. Rickon had more energy than the rest of them – save Arya – put together. 

“Are you planning on stopping anywhere?” her father asked Robb. “It isn’t good to be driving all day.”

“There’s a lovely place just outside of Oldstones, a diner up in the hills just off the highway”, said Jeyne. “I’ve been trying to convince Robb that we should stop off there for a late lunch.”

“If we’re running close enough to time”, Robb allowed. He added some more gravy to his plate and mashed in more potatoes. “I have driven long distance before, you know.”

Sansa glanced at Jon, who was sitting next to her, and saw him trying not to smile. They had both clearly heard the almost wounded pride in Robb’s voice. But he was right, though. Robb had driven one of the cars down to the Riverlands for her grandfather’s funeral. Her mother was so upset that it seemed too much for her and Robb had insisted he be permitted to do so. And Sansa recalled Robb driving himself, Jon and Theon to Sea Dragon Point for a music festival. Though not as far as the Riverlands, the roads to Sea Dragon Point – any west of Queenscrown, really – were slow and winding and needed more concentration than any highway.

“I know, but driving at this time of year can be difficult for the most experienced”, her father told him. “What with all these tourists around. The Essosi ones are used to driving on the other side of the road, which doesn’t help.”

“You must promise to send lots of pictures from Faircastle.” Sansa thought a change of subject in order. “And of anywhere else you visit.”

She wanted to travel but hated the thought of doing so alone. Perhaps next summer, if she found new friendships in the course she transferred to. Even a simple long weekend up at Queenscrown, exploring the Gift, would be glorious. It felt like the last two years had been split solely between Wintertown and King’s Landing.

“Absolutely. Roly, my brother, is a bit of an amateur photographer. I might see if I can hit him up for a loan of one of his many cameras.”

“We could maybe see if one of your brothers wants to come touristing with us one day”, Robb suggested. Jeyne nodded, a smile on her face, before turning to her attention one seat further along.

“This meal is amazing, Catelyn. Thank you so much. You’ve completely spoiled us all week.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m used to cooking for a crowd.” Sansa supposed they were a crowd, ten of them gathered around the table. But then she was so used to them all – or almost all – being together. 

Sansa turned to Jon. “How’s Lyanna?”

“Good, thanks. She’s been working a lot this week.” Sansa knew that, and it was part of the reason why she’d asked. She wasn’t sure _she_ could spend up to twelve hours a day on her feet, running around and managing a busy ER. “I left her and Ghost in front of the TV.”

“Yeah, there’s a really good drama series starting tonight”, said Sansa, remembering the trailer she’d seen after the news a few nights earlier. “A medical drama set in Oldtown a few decades ago. They’ve loosely based it on the memoirs of a couple that met working at a hospital there.”

“She’s not watching a serious drama tonight.” He seemed quite amused. “She’s eating pizza and watching _Down in Dorne_.”

“Isn’t that the trashy show you watch? The one I can’t stand?” Robb said to Jeyne, who pointed her fork at him in response. 

“ _Down in Dorne_ is not trashy, thank you very much. It is a documentary series charting the lives of young people in Dorne. It is interesting from a sociological, psychological and cultural perspective”, Jeyne informed them all. Privately, Sansa agreed with Robb. Reality TV was not a genre she enjoyed. She couldn’t fathom why anyone would sign a contract permitting themselves to be filmed all day every day. Growing up in such a large household – with the knowledge that her brothers or Arya could, at any point, get into her room to steal her diary – had meant she guarded her privacy fiercely.

“Isn’t that the show the High Septon wants banned because of all the graphic nudity?” asked Bran.

“The High Septon has no concept of Dornish culture”, Jeyne replied dismissively. “When it comes to personal relationships, the Dornish are far more like the Essosi in some ways than they are like the rest of Westeros.”

“Just like the North is different in many ways from the South”, Sansa mused aloud. She had become more and more aware of the differences since moving to King’s Landing. But – as she had told herself many times before and was sure she would tell herself many more times again – perhaps she had to leave Wintertown and the North to discover how much it truly was, and always had been, her home. 

-

“I ate far too much”, Jon groaned from his bean bag. He’d returned to the same spot with another full glass of red once dinner had finished. He always found himself eating far too much every time he came over. It was a wonder none of the Starks was the size of a house with all Catelyn Stark cooked for them. Jon supposed it was down to the seemingly endless energy they all had. 

“You and me both”, Robb sighed from next to him. “I feel like I’m about to fall into a food coma. That chocolate cake you make is too good Sansa.”

“You say that as if she forced the second and third slices – and the ice cream that came with them – down your throat”, said Jeyne. “Though I can’t say much. I couldn’t stop at a single slice of apple pie.”

“It was perfect, Sansa”, Jon agreed. She had made it with just the right amount of sugar, cinnamon and apples. It had taken all of Jon’s willpower to only have a smaller second slice and to politely decline the offer to join Robb in a third helping. 

“Thank you.” She had taken the seat her father had occupied earlier, as Ned had insisted she go and sit down while he helped with the dishes. “But, I did take it from Grandma Minnie’s recipe. Or, at least, the one she brought into the family.”

“Yeah, but you have to actually be able to follow the recipe, San”, Bran pointed out. 

“What is this, _Make Fun of Robb Day_?”

“Every day should be _Make Fun of Robb Day_ ”, Arya informed him. 

Robb wrapped an arm around Jeyne and pulled her close. “At least there’s _someone_ who’ll take my side over you heathens.”

Jon had always been amused by the bantering and back and forth of the Starks. It allowed him sometimes to feel as if he knew what it was to feel part of a _family_. His mother was all the blood he knew and cared to know now, and had been since the death of his grandmother not long after Jon’s second birthday, but around the Starks he felt as if he knew what it was to be part of something more than two people who had only each other. 

One of the advantages of this situation, though, was that he didn’t have to live in the middle of it all. He didn’t have to go three rounds with siblings over who had used up all the hot water. In truth, Jon figured on balance he would take the rough with the smooth, but he hoped that someday he might make that family himself. 

“Bran?” Jon looked up to see that Ned Stark had poked his head around the door. “Howland just called. He’ll be here a week from tomorrow to collect you.”

“Yes! Excellent.” 

“Is this for your weird conspiracy theory holiday?” Arya asked him.

“It is not a weird conspiracy theory!” Bran replied, and Jon could tell from the tone of his voice just how passionate he was about the subject. “There are artefacts at the Isle of Faces museum which confirm the existence of the Children of the Forest. This is about the evolution of the people who lived on this side of the Narrow Sea – “

“ _And who might be the reason we’re no longer attached to Essos_ ”, Rickon continued. Jon guessed he’d heard this from Bran more than once. 

Jon stayed at the Starks for another couple of hours after dinner, deciding only to leave when he could see the last rays of the sun were vanishing from the windows of the family room and Catelyn Stark was starting to talk about switching on a lamp and questioning when Robb intended to set his alarm for in the morning. 

He called a cab and stood outside waiting for it to arrive, flanked by Robb and Jeyne. Fireflies lit up the darkening sky and Jon thought again how much he loved living in the North at this time of year; how the extension of daylight far beyond what he understood they had in the South made the days feel so long and full. 

Robb yawned. “You should both go inside. I can wait for a cab myself.”

“Nonsense”, Robb insisted. “It’d feel like we’d thrown you out of the house or something.”

“This summer is just going to pass by so fast”, said Jeyne. 

“You think?”

“I agree”, said Jon. “If you break it down into weeks and what we’ll be doing and think about how time seems to go by quicker when you’re busy – and we’ll be _very_ busy this summer.”

“It makes me think we should have appreciated the long summer holidays more when we were younger and we had those eight weeks off from Wintertown High. Remember? When there were just weeks and weeks of staying up late and doing what you wanted……..”

“If you want those kind of holidays, then you’ve missed your calling”, laughed Jeyne. 

“Robb Stark, teacher-at-law”, grinned Jon. 

“I don’t know there is a school subject I enjoyed enough to actually teach it.” Robb frowned. 

“Me either”, Jon agreed. “I think of all of us, only Sansa really has the interest and temperament for teaching. She could teach literature, if she wanted. Bran has both too, but some of the ideas he has about history are a bit……unorthodox.”

“You mean bat-shit crazy?”

“That’s your brother you’re talking about”, Jeyne admonished. 

“Exactly, so I can be as mean as I like because he knows my intention is not to be horrible. Besides, if there’s a _Make Fun of Robb Day_ , then there should be a _Make Fun of Bran Day_. And a _Make Fun of_ _Arya Day_ , come to think of it.”

The cab came quicker than Jon had anticipated, and so it seemed only a moment later he was hugging Robb and Jeyne farewell and they were making him promise to keep in touch – as if that were unlikely. Jon truly appreciated Jeyne as a partner for Robb. They were equals and she wasn’t the type of girlfriend who tried to separate the man in her life from his friends. Instead, Jeyne had joined them. 

“Enjoy yourself down in Lannisport and make the most of it”, Jon told Robb. He turned to Jeyne and repeated what Robb had said to him about Sansa. “And if you could look after this one for me, then that would be great.”

“I need looking after, do I?”

Jon scoffed. “As if you didn’t say the same thing to me about Sansa. And, I’m quite sure, the same about me to Sansa.”

“That’s different”, Robb told him. Jon was sure that in Robb’s mind it was. 

“Drop me a text tomorrow or Sunday when you get to Lannisport.”

Jon gave them both a final hug and then got into the cab, waving as they continued to get smaller and smaller. Some friendships came and went in life, but Jon knew that his with Robb and Jeyne would last for a very long time. 

-

Sansa panted heavily as she ran towards the entrance to Wolfswood Country Park. It was a beautiful place to go for a run and there were pathways exclusively set aside for walkers and runners, and others for cyclists. There were even some for horse riding, though Sansa had never used them. She could feel her lungs burning and knew it had been too long – thanks to her exams – since she’d last been for a run. 

The last week or so had been so hectic and she’d wanted to spend as much time as possible with Robb and getting to know Jeyne before they went to Lannisport. But tonight, feeling a little anxiety at starting work in the morning, Sansa had pulled on her running shoes and headed out of the house. It was early in the evening and the warm summer air had started to cool somewhat. 

Sansa powered through the pain and turned into the entrance, deciding to go for one of the short loops she knew existed. It wouldn’t be busy at this time on a Sunday, and as there had been hardly any rain since her return home (just a couple of quick showers on Tuesday) the ground was easy to run on. There would be no mud splashing up her legs. 

The loop proved as quiet as Sansa thought it would be – she only came across half a dozen other runners and a young couple out for an evening stroll – and she only had to stop once to catch her breath. She was just coming out of the loop where it reconnected with the main pathway when she caught sight of someone at the doggy waste disposal. Sansa grinned at the sight of the two of them, pleased to finally be able to meet Ghost in person. 

“Out for a walk?” she asked, breathing heavily. Jon startled a little, clearly not having seen her approach him, and then smiled. 

“Hey, Sansa. Yeah, I thought it would be best to give him a good walk tonight. My mother’s back on night shift so he won’t get another long one until tomorrow afternoon.”

Sansa crouched down and petted Ghost. He was as adorable as promised by the pictures Jon had shown her. She ruffled his beautiful white fur and felt a pang of envy yet again. Sansa had loved Grey Wind and been inconsolable when he died. It would be so lovely to have a dog around the house again. 

Ghost nuzzled into her legs and panted at her, his tail wagging wildly. “He likes you.”

“He can tell that I’m a dog person.” Sansa stood up. Ghost continued to nuzzle into her and Sansa enjoyed the comfort of it. 

“A run before you need to get ready for work?”

“Pretty much. And I’ve been neglecting it of late”, she chuckled. “Even before I came home it had been a while since I’d really gone for a long run. It’s much better running at home in any case.”

“Oh?” Jon looked surprised. 

“Less pollution. Fewer people to knock into you. Fewer roads to cross.” The first time she’d gone out for a run in King’s Landing, Sansa had received a sharp lesson in all of these.

“There aren’t green areas in King’s Landing?” Sansa shook her head. She’d forgotten he’d never been there. Sansa wasn’t sure he’d been south of the Neck other than the school trip him and Robb had been on to Harrenhal and the God’s Eye. 

“There’s really just the gardens in the grounds of the Red Keep.” The former royal palace was now a tourist attraction in itself, but the gardens were a mixture of cultivated areas given over to flowers and pathways for walking, running and cycling. “That’s on the opposite side of the city from campus, though, so I normally just ran on Sundays, when there were fewer cars about, and not too far from student housing.”

She’d normally been alone on Sundays anyway with Mya tending to spend Saturday nights over at Mychel’s. 

“I need to get back into it myself. Monday reminded me how woefully unfit I’ve allowed myself to become over the last couple of months. The NORTEM fun race is at the end of the summer, and I want to be able to run the 10K rather than the 5k. I doubt I’ll place, but it would be great to be able to do the longer distance.”

NORTEM – or, to give the organisation its full title, _Northern Teen Mothers_ – held charity runs throughout the North during the summer months. Sansa knew that Jon, who had been raised by a young mother, had taken part in the Wintertown run every year since he’d been eligible at sixteen. The entrance fees helped to fund the charity’s support work. 

“I might enter myself this year”, said Sansa. It was all for a good cause and would give her focus in her running. And, on those mornings when she _should_ go for a run but simply wanted to pull the covers over her head, it would be a source of motivation. 

“You should. The route for this year’s race is a good one. I was looking at it online the other day.”

“I’ll check out the website.”

“Heading home now?” Sansa nodded. “Why don’t you walk with us? Unless you wanted to get more of a run in?”

“I think I’ve done enough for a bit”, Sansa laughed. “My legs are like jelly.”

They started walking slowly towards the park entrance, Ghost trying to run further ahead than his leash would allow. Sansa thought again how much she wanted a dog of her own someday; to go for walks or runs on a quiet, peaceful Sunday with her canine companion. It was a dream for the future, however, for after the completion of her studies.

And a dog would be someone for her to come home to. 

She still had hopes and dreams of finding someone, but Joffrey and what had happened after……she stopped in her tracks so often now when it came to trusting people. A dog wouldn’t betray her, wouldn’t hurt her, as a human would. 

Her mother had looked at her so expectantly when they’d bumped into their old neighbour, Mrs. Hornwood, outside Mordane’s Bakery this afternoon and the woman had asked Sansa if there was anyone special in her life. Sansa had shaken her head and replied that she was concentrating on her studies for now, but she knew in her heart the hopes her mother had of her finding someone. Sansa had always wanted that. To find someone who made her as happy as her parents made each other. 

“Ghost and I should be heading home. I’ve got a few things to do before tomorrow. Some books I want to look out and such”, Jon told her. Sansa tried not to betray how startled she was as she realised they’d reached the entrance to the park. 

Jon wasn’t the type of person to force his company or opinions on someone. Nor was he the type to chatter away. Their walk had been made in mutual silence, but it struck Sansa that it wasn’t the oppressive kind of silence. 

“Of course”, she murmured. “Sorry, Jon, I should have been a bit more with it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot on at the moment.” He was always so _understanding_. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be the one with the big pile of notebooks, surrounded by books and looking very uncomfortable in a new suit.”

Sansa smiled. “I’ll be the one with the coffee and lemon muffin from Mordane’s. Let me know if you run into any problems with IT.”

“I will do. See you tomorrow, Sansa.”

“Bye, Jon. Bye, Ghost.” She bent down to give the sweet pup another pat, and then set off running again in the direction of home, thinking of the long, hot bubble bath she could have when she got there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Robb and Jeyne are off to Lannisport, which means we see less of them. But, it also means that next chapter Jon and Sansa begin working together for the summer, so we'll be seeing a lot more of the two of them interacting with each other from here on in! :)


	6. Day One

The alarm on her phone going off at six thirty on Monday morning came as something of a shock to Sansa’s system. By chance, none of the classes she had taken at KLU had started before nine and so seven thirty had been her more reasonable wake-up time for the Psychology class she’d taken to satisfy her first year science requirement. 

Six thirty felt a little unnecessary and Sansa was relieved that it wouldn’t be a regular occurrence. With the internships starting today, her father had mentioned in passing on Saturday that he would be heading in to the office for eight rather than nine. This, in turn, meant that Sansa had to choose between taking a lift and being early, or make her own way in and get an extra half-hour or so in bed. 

When she made it downstairs, an old blue striped cardigan wrapped around her, Sansa found her father already showered, dressed and helping himself to usual breakfast of coffee and toast. He wished her good morning but Sansa found she could only grunt in response. 

“You never were much of a morning person”, her father told her, and Sansa’s mind cast back to her schooldays and the number of times her mother had to call her to get up after all the alarms had gone off. “It’ll just be today.”

She’d have to work at this morning person thing if she wanted to get up early to go running. She’d gone online after her gloriously indulgent bubble bath and had a look at the fun race route Jon had mentioned when they’d spoken at Wolfswood. It was challenging, to say the least, involving a climb up the steepest hill in Wintertown, but it also took in a decent amount of Wolfswood and the surrounding area – some of the most stunning parts of the town. Registration wasn’t open for another couple of weeks, but Sansa planned on signing up when she could. And the extra time would let her see if, like Jon, she’d be aiming for the full 10k.

Mindful of the lemon muffins she intended to pick up at Mordane’s Bakery – which was, temptingly, diagonally opposite the building in which her father’s firm was housed – Sansa helped herself to some fruit and began peeling a banana. The bakery’s coffee was strong, so Sansa settled for some of the freshly squeezed orange juice her mother prepared each day. 

A quick breakfast, followed by a shower, Sansa then changed into the sleeveless white shirt and mid-length deep green skirt she’d chosen the night before and made it back downstairs a little before seven forty-five. 

“Made it with two minutes to spare”, she informed her father. Sansa presented herself to the kitchen, a black briefcase-style bag on her shoulder and a pretty green cardigan on her arm in case the air turned cold at the end of the day. In the North, weather was changeable, even during the summer months. 

“You look lovely, sweetheart”, her mother told her. “Are you certain I shouldn’t have made you some sandwiches?” Her father always took his own lunch to work and, more often than not, ate at his desk. 

“I’ll pick up a fresh salad at a deli or something. Its fine”, Sansa assured her. She managed alone in King’s Landing, but her mother was still her mother – and Catelyn Stark looked after her adult children as much as she did those still at school. Robb had admitted to her during his first trip home from WHU, when Sansa was still at Wintertown High, that Jon had needed to show him how to do his own washing. 

Sansa, at the very least, had mastered the art of looking after herself long before her move to King’s Landing. 

“Time to go, I think.” Sansa found it a tad odd, being a little jealous of her parents, but she couldn’t help the small pang in her stomach at the sight of her parents kissing each other farewell. Her siblings had always maintained it was gross after the age of around eight, but Sansa had always seen it as a sweet romantic gesture. 

The journey to the offices of Stark & Sons did not take long at this time of the morning. Sansa had her father drop her outside Mordane’s Bakery and the moment she stepped inside the smells of bread baking and cakes being prepared filled her nostrils. She was transported back in time, as she often was now, to her schooldays when she would often come in on a Saturday afternoon after shopping or before going to a movie and sit with a milkshake or coffee and a lemon-flavoured cake of some description. 

Sansa stepped forward to the counter and placed her order. “A large vanilla latte and a lemon muffin, please.”

“Name?”

“Sansa.”

“It’ll be a few minutes. And that’s five silver stags.”

Sansa handed over the money and stood off to the side. She wished she’d thought to bring a book with her. Perhaps she could go to the book store along the street at lunchtime. They had a small café she could buy her lunch from, and she could choose something new to read. Start a new adventure. 

She wondered what the interns would be like. She hadn’t met any of them – nor had she thought to make enquiries with her father as she had the year before. Perhaps the knowledge that she’d know at least one of them had contented her. Or, had it been the solitude that had characterised her life in King’s Landing over the last fifteen months? If nothing else it had shown Sansa that she could act alone if necessary.

Sansa wouldn’t be a legal intern. Her role was really more of an administrative one, providing the office admins and paralegals with cover during the summer when holidays held back work. There would be another couple of interns like her and Sansa hoped they would be able to get along. It had been different last summer. With Robb there shadowing Jory and Rodrik before he started at WHU Law, there had been less focus on her as Ned Stark’s daughter. 

“Vanilla latte for Sansa!” She was pulled out of her thoughts by the shout of the girl who’d served her. Sansa picked up the coffee and muffin gratefully and headed outside, in the direction of her father’s firm. She was feeling more awake now and the caffeine in her latte increased that sense of alertness. 

When she pushed open the front door of the sandstone building, the first face she saw was that of Rodrik Cassel. Rodrik was junior only to her father and Sansa had known him all her life. 

“Miss Sansa!” he boomed. “What a delight to see you. Back up here in the wilds after another year in the big city. Are you ready for the chaos of the first day?”

“As always. I’ve come armed with coffee and a muffin from Mordane’s.”

“The breakfast of champions, that is. I swear by it. You’re the first one here. Head on in to the meeting room – you know the one – and take a seat. I’ll send more in to you when they arrive.”

Sansa walked the familiar path to the conference room used for meetings with other firms, both in person and via video conferencing. It was set out with more than fifteen chairs, which surprised Sansa. Normally her father only took on six legal interns and three summer admins. Perhaps he had expanded the mentoring programme or wanted to introduce the new intake to more of the staff.

She chose a seat near the open window and felt the cool air on her neck. With no book to read – and Sansa still couldn’t believe she’d made such an amateur mistake as that – she placed her coffee and muffin on the table and settled down with her, mercifully fully charged, phone and pulled up the _Northern Times_ website. 

It took until Sansa had progressed from the local to international news for someone else to appear. He was tall, blond and blue-eyed and seemed to simultaneously be pleased with himself for being so early and disappointed he wasn’t the first to arrive. 

“I’m sure you’ll be in before me tomorrow”, she replied to his observation that he’d thought to be first. “I’m Sansa, by the way. One of the admin interns.”

“Harrold Hardyng, but you can call Harry.” He held his hand out for Sansa to shake and gave her a wide smile, showing off all the teeth Sansa – perhaps uncharitably – figured he’d just had whitened by some fancy cosmetic dentist. “You have a pretty accent. Definitely Northern, but not in a growly way. I’m from the Vale myself. I’m just about to start my final year at Gulltown Law. You?”

“KLU. Literature major. I’m halfway through _.” And hopefully not going back to KLU, but I’m not about to tell_ you _that_.

As Harry took the seat next to Sansa and began to tell her all about his life in Gulltown and the fraternity he was part of, she found herself wishing that Jon had been the next person to arrive. 

-

Jon arrived at Stark & Sons a little after eight thirty. He wanted to show Ned that he wasn’t looking for any preferential treatment and was as willing as the rest of the interns to start on the lowest rung and work his way up. 

The receptionist, who wore a nametag that said _Kyra_ , directed him through to the conference room and quickly went back to her morning tasks. Jon thanked the girl and loosened his shirt collar. He hated wearing suits in the summer and envied those who could dress to suit the season. Jon would need to make do with air con and open windows.

When he found the room, he could see that there were a handful of other people here already. Sansa was sitting in the very seat Jon would have chosen, next to the open window, listening to something the blond next to her was saying. A few seats along from them was a young man reading something on his phone, while opposite him at the round table were two young women who seemed vaguely familiar to Jon. 

The blond next to Sansa was making wild hand gestures and he could see her arching backwards. Jon wondered whether he should go over and speak to her when Sansa caught his eye and jumped up. 

“Jon!” He watched as Sansa gathered together her things and pointed over at him. The blond man turned round and narrowed his eyes but seemed to accept whatever Sansa was saying. She walked over and directed Jon into the two seats nearest the door. 

“Morning. Saving your lemon muffin for later?” Sansa groaned. 

“I haven’t had a chance to eat it yet!” she whispered. “That man is awful. The only thing he seems to be able to talk about is himself! I told him you were an old friend. Once I would’ve told him you were a friend of my very over-protective brother and that Robb had made you promise to look out for me.”

That was, in a way, a little bit true and Jon pointed that out to Sansa. 

“I know. But I would’ve wanted _him_ to know that too.”

“You could have told him who your father is. That might have worked better.” Jon would’ve been mortified if he’d turned up not knowing anyone and immediately started flirting with the boss’s daughter. 

“I don’t like doing that. I don’t even like hiding behind Robb.” Jon found it curious how uncomfortable she looked. The younger Sansa he remembered didn’t do that. She covered any discomfort she felt with politeness. “I don’t want him to think I am the sort of person who uses their family name to get them through life.”

Jon smiled. “Okay.” He resisted the temptation to add that any time she needed his help, she need only ask. He got the feeling that Sansa wanted to stand on her own two feet in Robb’s eyes as much as this stranger’s.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the interns to arrive, and once eleven of them sat around the table that covered the room they were joined by Ned Stark, Rodrik Cassel, his nephew Jory, and Jeor Mormont. Jon knew all four of them, having been around the Starks for so many years, and was looking forward to learning from them. 

“Good morning and welcome to all of you”, Ned began, after Jory had closed the door and taken the final seat at the table. “I am Eddard Stark, named partner of the firm. I am looking forward to working with all of you over the coming weeks and months.”

Jon listened as Ned gave them all an overview of the history of the firm – an overview Jon suspected most of them already had, most likely gained through the application process. He had spent an inordinate amount of time on the firm’s website himself when preparing his essay statement. Jon glanced slightly at Sansa next to him, and saw the faint hint of her lips quirked a time or two. It made him wonder just how many times Sansa had heard this telling.

“Finally, I would like to introduce you all to Rodrik Cassel and Jeor Mormont, the two senior partners at the firm, and to Jory Cassel. Jory is our lead paralegal and in charge of the administration of the firm. Those of you who will be working in the administration area over the summer will report directly to him as those of you working on the legal side will to Rodrik. And now, as I am sure you’ve heard enough of my voice, I ask that each of you introduce yourselves.”

With them being closest to the door, Ned looked in his and Sansa’s direction first. “Good morning. My name is Jon and I have just completed my first year at WHU Law.” 

After what she’d said about not wanting to use her father’s name to get ahead, Jon wanted Sansa to have the option of letting people get to know her a bit before telling them she was the boss’s daughter. Jon could relate to that; there was a reason that only a handful of people outside he and his mother knew the identity of his father. 

Sansa gave him a look that he hoped indicated gratitude. “Sansa. I’m a Literature student and I have just completed my second year at KLU.”

The two girls Jon had vaguely recognised spoke next and he realised they must have crossed paths in the library late one night, as both Edda and Erena were at WHU Law, only a year ahead of Jon. It would be interesting to get their perspectives on the second year of his course. Before his return to White Harbour, Jon would need to commit to modules for the forthcoming semester. 

Next came Will and Kyle, again students who had completed a further year of study than Jon, though at Moat Cailin. They seemed to know each other well and Jon felt a disappointed reminder of the fact he and Robb were not working together over the summer. At least Sansa would be here, though. Perhaps she might even join him for lunch a time or two if she was at a loose end, though Jon could not fathom that being the case. 

The other young man who had arrived before him turned out to be Robin, who was studying locally at Wintertown College and had just complete the first year of his studies in Northern History. Jon narrowed his eyes at the sight of the man who had been flirting with Sansa earlier, and who was now trying not to laugh at where Robin was studying. He felt that his first impression of the man was entirely accurate. 

Next to Robin was Ronnel, about to start his final year at Moat Cailin studying Botany, and then Myranda, who was the first person other than Sansa to be studying outside the North. Like Sansa, she was a Literature student, though at Gulltown Arts Institute. The look she gave him sent shivers up Jon’s spine and not in a good way. Jon quickly turned his attention to Arra who, like Jon, had just finished her first year, though at Queenscrown. 

Then, it was the turn of the man Jon had come quickly to dislike. “I am Harrold Hardyng, though most call me Harry. I have just finished my second year at Gulltown Law. Good to see someone else from the Vale here, Myranda! I am President of the Law Social Society and also heavily involved in the Ghis Fraternity, the oldest at the university.”

Jon did not need to waste much time trying to imagine what _Robb’s_ reaction to Harry Hardyng would have been. Particularly to Harry’s flirting. Jon glanced at Sansa and saw a mask of politeness had slipped over her face. He couldn’t imagine she was impressed by Harry. It struck Jon that with his blond hair and blue eyes, Harry looked a tad like Joffrey. 

Rodrik’s voice pulled Jon from his thoughts. “I look forward to working with all eleven of you during your time here. I expect you to work hard. Above all, however, those of you engaged in legal studies are here to learn and gain practical experience. We do not expect you to know everything. Ask questions when you need to. Take advantage of the years of experience the staff here possess.”

After that they were separated, with Jory taking the admin interns off to show them round. Jon gave Sansa a farewell wave and the listened to Rodrik and Jeor instruct them further in what would be expected in their conduct, work and research. Jon noticed Sansa had forgotten her muffin and felt his stomach rumble. 

-

Sansa was grateful for the break when lunch rolled around. She had realised while listening to Jory talk about fire assembly points and health and safety that her muffin hadn’t made it out of the meeting room with her. For all Sansa had groaned internally at the thought of her lost muffin, it was returned to her mid-morning when Jon stopped by the desk she had been assigned. 

She had worked non-stop since the coffee break that had followed the return of her muffin, completing the obligatory health and safety paperwork and insurance forms and setting up her work station. Although she had joked to Jon about IT and passwords and printer access, everything went through without issue. She was sat in the middle of the office at a bank of rarely-used desks, with Myranda diagonally opposite her and Robin and Ronnel on either side. 

Walking along the street to the book store, Sansa reflected on her first impressions of her new co-workers. Ronnel had been hard to judge, not having said much. Robin had talked to her about Wintertown and told her that he knew Arya through fencing. He spoke passionately about his course of study and it had left Sansa feeling that she’d perhaps been a bit of a snob in her disregard for Northern universities outside of WHU and Moat Cailin. 

Myranda, on the other hand, was someone Sansa was very unsure of. She reminded Sansa far too much of Margaery Tyrell. Perhaps it was unfair to judge Myranda without getting to know her properly. 

She walked into the book store and decided to have lunch before searching the shelves, lest she became so engrossed in her browsing and ran out of time to eat. They had forty-five minutes for lunch and Sansa didn’t want anyone to think she was getting special treatment because of her name. She would stick rigidly to the same hours and rules as everyone else. Her father would expect no less of her. 

The store café made mouth-watering ciabattas and Sansa chose the lemon chicken and pesto one, devouring it faster than she was sure was lady-like. It was filling and that would hopefully be enough to help her resist the temptation to stop in at Mordane’s again for another lemon muffin on her way back to the office. 

She had stopped to read the back of a text about Northern literary tradition in the previous century, written by the author of the _Bael_ book, when she heard his voice. 

“Sansa?” Jon was standing a couple of feet away from her, a thick legal text in hand. She knew instantly what it was. 

“Rodrik mentioned the Mollen book, didn’t he?” She knew from the year before that Rodrik told his new interns all about the Hallis Mollen book on legal precedent in the North – and that there was always at least one person who went out and bought it that first week. Sansa supposed she should’ve known Jon would be among those who did.

“How did you know that?”

“Intuition”, Sansa smiled. “It is meant to be useful. I remember him suggesting it to the legal interns last year. He told me it isn’t on the reading list for any legal studies, but he finds it a practical historical resource.”

“How about you?” Jon pointed at the book in her hand. Sansa showed him the title. “Oh. I didn’t realise you studied Northern Literature as part of your course at KLU.”

“I don’t. I just – I forgot to bring a book with me today, to read over lunch, and sort of found myself here”, she admitted. Sansa didn’t want to add that she hoped the book she held – and intended to buy – helped her get into the WHU course she’d applied to transfer to. The truth was that KLU’s syllabus featured solely Southron Literature. Once, it had been what had attracted Sansa to it.

“Oh. If I’d known you were coming here too, I would’ve suggested coming with you. We could’ve compared notes on our first day.” Sansa wished she had known too. It would sadly be a change of pace to have lunch with a friend. At least, that’s what she hoped she and Jon were becoming. Arya was friends with him. Why shouldn’t she be Jon’s friend too?

“If we have the same lunch again then we should go somewhere. I love books, but it’d be nice to have human company. Are you ready to go? I mean, I’ve decided on this one.”

“Yeah. I thought I’d pick up some lunch at the grocery store on the way back. Their sandwiches aren’t too awful.”

Once they’d paid, Sansa found herself walking down the street listening to Jon talk about how excited he was about the case he’d be helping Jeor with. Sansa was sure her father must’ve had a hand in ensuring Jon was assigned to a senior partner, but didn’t like to say. She knew how hard Jon worked for everything he had and didn’t want to take that away from him.

“….disagreement over land ownership. It feels like something out of another century in some ways, but I’m looking forward to the research for it”, he told her. Sansa smiled. Jon could get so engrossed in the minutiae of what he was talking about sometimes, when he really believed in it, and it reminded her of the times she’d spoken in tutorials about characters and themes in the texts they were studying.

They were lucky, she and Jon, Sansa thought. Lucky to have such great interest in and passion about their areas of study. When she’d asked Myranda about her Literature studies, she’d simply shrugged and said _‘A girl’s got to study something, right?_ ’ before changing the subject to a piece of gossip she’d overheard in the bathroom about one of the junior partners.

Myranda was in the grocery store when they went in to pick up Jon’s sandwich. Sansa did not miss the way that Myranda _“accidentally”_ dropped the banana in her hand and then bent down to pick it up. While Jon seemed oblivious to her use of the _bend and snap_ , Sansa was not. What he did seem was uncomfortable, so Sansa suggested they head to the pet food aisle so he could help her pick out the treat she’d decided to buy Ghost. 

“Thank you”, said Jon, when they were out of Myranda’s earshot. “She asked me where I was going for lunch but lost interest the second I mentioned something about the book store.”

“No problem.” Sansa figured it made them even. After all, Jon arriving when he had that morning had given her an escape route from Harry. “What are friends for, right?”

“Precisely.”

Sansa insisted on buying Ghost two of the bones Jon said he liked. She’d adored the sweet pup Jon had adopted and wondered if the same breed might not be suitable for her, when she completed her studies and had her own home. 

“Do you have any more pictures of Ghost?” Sansa asked Jon when they made it back to the office. She still had a couple of minutes left until she needed to be back at her desk, and Jon had more time than her. 

“No. I have a video, though. I took it when I was attempting to give him a bath last night. Here.” Jon pressed on the keypad a few times and then handed over his phone. “I’ve muted it, but I’m not sure you need the volume on.”

Sansa felt a huge grin grow on her face as she watched Ghost trying to escape the bath and soaking Jon in the process. She assumed Lyanna must have taken the video and wondered if the volume hadn’t been muted, if she could hear Lyanna and Jon laughing at Ghost running riot around them.

“So, so cute”, said Sansa. “Though maybe next time you should hose him down in the back yard?”

“Maybe”, Jon conceded.

“I was disappointed to see you had already gone for lunch.” Harry had joined them. “I didn’t realise who you were when we spoke earlier. Uncle J must have mis-spoken when he told me your name. I thought he told me the Stark daughter I would be working with was called Sarra.”

“Uncle J?” Sansa handed Jon’s phone back to him and folded her arms. She was liking Harry less and less by the minute.

“Your mother’s sister is married to my uncle. Well, sort of uncle.” He was related to Uncle Jon? Sansa wondered that her father hadn’t told her about Harry. But that was a conversation for later. 

“You’re a cousin of Robin’s, then?”

“To some degree. It was a shame you went off for lunch so early. We could’ve gone off somewhere together.”

“I had some shopping to do. We both did.” Sansa indicated herself and Jon. “I should be getting back to my desk.”

Sansa left the two of them behind and tried to refocus her mind on the tasks Jory had set her. There was some audio typing to do for a case one of the junior partners was working on, and then filing for a recently closed case. 

She wasn’t naïve enough to think that she’d get through the summer without the other interns discovering she was a Stark, but Sansa had hoped that perhaps she might get some leeway. A day or two, perhaps, in which Myranda and Robin and Ronnel might get to know here a bit before they inevitably filtered their comments around her lest she pass on their complaints to her father. Last year, she had not been so circumspect, but last year she’d had Robb. 

At least Jon wouldn’t treat her any differently. 

-

“I have to finish my lunch and get back to work myself”, said Jon, indicating the turkey salad sandwich he had bought at the grocery store. He walked away from Harry, thinking again that Robb would _not_ have liked him one bit. 

Jon knew he would hate it if people made assumptions about him, or wanted to be around him, simply because he was Rhaegar Targaryen’s son. Sansa was smart and compassionate and lots of other things in her own right and deserved to be known for that rather than deemed simply _the daughter of Ned Stark_.

He ate the sandwich quickly, lest Myranda return too promptly, and thumbed his way through the Mollen book Rodrik Cassel had mentioned. Jon knew that Mollen had been a student a few years behind Rodrik and that he had considered himself a mentor of sorts to Hallis. It looked an interesting book and potentially a good resource for him. The book might even be helpful with the case he was helping Jeor on, a battle for land between three parties. 

Jon was grateful for Sansa’s presence in the grocery store. He recognised the _bend and snap_ move. Robb had been ill with ‘flu in January and Jeyne had stayed over to help nurse the grouchy patient through it. Mostly, she had fetched him chicken noodle soup from the deli downstairs. One evening, he’d been so doped up on cough mixture he crashed out, leaving Jeyne and Jon bored. She’d suggested watching one of her favourite films, promising it had a legal theme. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t been at the copier at the same time as Myranda earlier on in the day. She was wearing a top that walked the line between professional and not and showed quite a bit of her rather large breasts. Jon had thought he was imagining the way she thrust them in his direction, but he was disabused of that notion in the grocery store when she deployed the _bend and snap_. 

Thank goodness for Sansa.

Jon had never learned how to politely say _no_ to a woman. He was clumsy and blunt at times and could remember at school when one of the girls in his class had asked him to a dance and he had panicked and simply replied that he wasn’t into her. 

He finished the sandwich and returned to his desk and the documents of land ownership provided by the representatives of Mr. Liddle, Mr. Bolton and Ms. Wull. Each of them claimed ownership of a piece of land that a building contractor wanted for a new housing estate. It would mean a lot of money for the true owner, but Jeor had trouble establishing just who that was. The firm represented Ms. Wull, who apparently came by the land in a bequest from her late uncle, Theo. 

Jon spent the better part of the afternoon looking through the documents provided by each party – all of which were notarised and looked legal in their own way – and trying to research Northern Land legislation as far as possible. He pushed away the laptop he’d been provided with and logged in to, preferring a large notepad, pens and highlighters. The Mollen book proved to have a few useful legal precedents and Jon sought out a number of other legal texts from the firm library, ones with titles he remembered from the modules he’d taken over the past couple of semesters. 

“You look very intent”, Sansa told him when they met at the printer in the middle of the afternoon. Jon had just returned a couple of books to the library and was heading back to his desk. “Very busy.”

“I guess so. Just doing a bit of research. You?” 

“Printing off a hard copy of the audio typing I’ve completed. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am. It is hard work, but then I expected that. Enjoying myself is a good thing. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a job I hate.” His mother was passionate about nursing and making a difference in people’s lives, and she had passed that on to him. “And you? I know this isn’t what you want to do forever, but you’re not hating it at least?”

Sansa chuckled. “I’m not hating it. In fact, I’m enjoying being around people.” She hesitated a moment and a look Jon couldn’t identify crossed her face. “Reading books is such a solitary activity sometimes.”

“Your course is about more than reading books.”

“Not always.” Sansa lifted her completed print job off the out-tray. “I should get this to Jory.”

“See you later.”

Jon returned to his desk and worked away on the brief until four, when he was scheduled to have a meeting with Jeor. He had been both excited and nervous that morning when Jory had announced which partner each of them would be shadowing. Jon had met Jeor Mormont a few times and so they were able to quickly move past the awkwardness of introductions easily. Mormont seemed to Jon to be a no-nonsense boss who would give him real work to do, but in return would expect Jon to apply himself. 

Rodrik was due to meet with each of them at the end of each week to assess their progress but already Jon could see his first meeting at least would be nothing but positive on his side. 

He walked along the corridor and knocked on Jeor’s door. “Come in.”

The room was sombre and practical, with a meeting table that could sit perhaps half a dozen and a large oak desk behind which Jeor sat. It looked a little less intimidating to Jon than it had earlier on in the day but it would be imposing for outside counsel coming for meetings. 

“Jon, good to see you.” Jeor indicated for him to sit and Jon did so, setting his already bulging notebook on the desk. “Well, how have you fared in your research so far?”

“I’ve learned a lot. I didn’t realise how complex the issues around land ownership were”, he confessed.

“True, true”, Mormont agreed. “In the century before last there were extensive legal changes to how it was managed. Prior to that the idea of selling land rather than passing it on to the nearest family member was not a commonly accepted concept. Land was, in some cases, abandoned simply because the owners could not afford to keep farming the land. And property developers were granted permission to make developments as payment for debts with no written formalities.”

Jon felt a slight discomfort at the mention of property development. He wondered if the Targaryens had ever done business in the North. 

“Certainly Ms. Wull’s documentation goes further back than the other claimants”, said Jon. “There was a legal precedent I found – in the Mollen book, actually, the one Rodrik mentioned – relating to a piece of land in Hornwood County. It was a few decades ago, but it rules out the type of claim Mr. Bolton is making on the grounds that the land was granted under an interim edict. The ruling argued that any grant of land given in such a way is simply invalid.”

Such grants may only been in use for a short period several centuries ago, but the ruling was one Jon knew would likely prove useful in his arguments in court in years to come. And, possibly, before then in his studies.

“A good start, but we would still have Mr. Liddle’s claim to content with.”

“Of course.” That, Jon thought, was a matter for tomorrow’s research and for Wednesday’s too if it came to that. 

“Rodrik will get that book on the syllabus of a Northern university yet”, Jeor grinned. “You found everything easy enough? The research worked your mind?”

“Yes. I did, thank you.”

“I see you made enough notes anyway.”

“I’m sure they’ll all be useful at some stage.”

“Alright. Well, I have a meeting scheduled for Wednesday morning to update Ms. Wull on our progress and I should like you to attend. Jory will be there to write up some notes for us. Spend as much time as you can tomorrow trying to prepare arguments to discredit Mr. Liddle’s case. Before we can practice law, we must learn the law – and more, _understand_ it.”

Jon thanked Jeor again and went back to his desk feeling positive about his first day. He’d have to text Robb tonight to find out how he had fared at Farman and Associates. And take Ghost for a walk. If there was time – which he doubted there was – he might get in a short evening run. 

Jon wondered if Sansa might want to train with him sometime if she was serious about taking part in the fun race. It would be good to have a running buddy, someone to help motivate him when he felt like cutting his run short. They had never really spent much time together as children but Jon thought they might have more in common now they were adults. He was looking forward to getting to know his new friend better over the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, the names of their colleagues (who will all feature to some degree or another) are:
> 
> Legal Interns - Jon Snow, Harrold Hardyng, Arra Norrey, Edda Tallhart, Kyle Condon, Will Dustin & Erena Glover  
> Admin Interns - Sansa Stark, Myranda Royce, Ronnel Stout & Robin Flint
> 
> And we will delve into their backgrounds in more detail in later chapters!


	7. A Tale of Two Lunches

Late Friday morning, as he took a fresh coffee to his desk to work through some depositions, Jon reflected that it had been a long and tiring – though eminently fulfilling – first week. He had spent a lot of time with Jeor, going over various cases, sifting through research and even sitting in on meetings. It had given him a practical insight into his chosen career that Jon knew he could never have experienced in a classroom at White Harbour. 

He liked the layout of the desks they had been given. It forced all seven of them to work together. There was an empty desk that acted as storage, but the seven interns all seemed to be a close unit. Well, sort of. Jon had become more and more certain as the week had gone on that his initial assessment had been correct and Robb really, really would _not_ have liked Harry Hardyng. Otherwise, however, Jon had warmed to his new colleagues. 

While Hardyng had a blasé attitude that Jon couldn’t match up with both the seriousness of their work and the hoops they’d all had to jump through to secure their places on the internship programme, the rest of them were intelligent and – or, at least in Jon’s experience – helpful. He found himself closest to Erena and Edda, most likely because they were all White Harbour students, though he tried to include Arra wherever possible as Will and Kyle seemed to spend most of their time together.

Watching Will and Kyle made Jon contemplate how different things would’ve been had Robb not decided to follow Jeyne to Lannisport. Jon would not begrudge Robb his time with Jeyne, knowing as he did how right they were for each other, but at the same time he missed his best friend. And seeing Will and Kyle heading out for lunch together and sharing a shorthand in their communication, it reminded him of his missing friend. 

It was silly, in a way. After all, Sansa would’ve joined the two of them for lunch so it wasn’t as if there was a direct comparison. 

Sansa. And there was a good sort of oddity. Jon would never had thought of the elder of Robb’s sisters as being a close friend. Yet, that was something he could possibly see Sansa becoming. It had only been a few days but every time they spoke it made Jon realise how much they had in common and how much he enjoyed Sansa’s friendship.

“Jon?” He looked up to see Jory Cassel standing next to him expectantly, Sansa by his side. “We just got a call – the review of the Knott depositions needs to be completed by the end of the day. The presiding judge has brought the case forward. As it is we’re running a bit tight so I’ve asked Sansa to work on the depositions with you. Between the two of you I think we can get it done in time.”

Jon nodded. He stood up and pulled over the spare chair from the empty desk for Sansa to sit in. 

“I’ll leave you to it now”, said Jory. “Sansa, I’ve got a few things that need doing but if this takes up all of your afternoon then it can wait until Monday.”

“Thank you, Jory.” When Jory left, Sansa turned to Jon. “It would probably have been easier for one of the legals to – “

“I find it easier to work with someone who is good at research and detail. You were here last summer so Jory knows the quality of your work. And if I remember what Robb told me, you worked through depositions with him. Besides that, you study literature, something where the smallest, most minute detail can have a massive impact. You study language and that helps with the way someone has phrased their evidence”, said Jon. He knew she’d had a tendency to talk herself down a little since Joffrey. Even if Robb had not told him that, Jon could’ve figured it out for himself. 

The Sansa he remembered from childhood had been modest, never boastful, but nor had she been as self-deprecating as Jon knew he had been at that time. 

“Jory mentioned this is an inheritance dispute?” Sansa focused them back to the job. 

“Yes”, Jon nodded. He gave her a brief overview of the case and the arguments Jeor intended to make in court the following week on their client’s behalf. Jon did not add his hope that he might be able to observe the proceedings. 

The two of them worked away quietly for the next couple of hours, highlighting the references Jeor needed from the depositions taken in the weeks prior to Jon’s internship beginning. He had become so involved in everything that he reflected yet again it hardly seemed to be the end of his first week. 

Jon was so engrossed in his work and the comments he and Sansa made comparing the evidence they were scouring that he did not realise they had encroached upon lunchtime. He heard a cough that he did not recognise as belonging to Sansa and looked up to see Myranda Royce leaning over the side of his desk. She was wrapping her mid-length, loose hair around her finger and she staring at him intensely.

“You should take a break. All work and no play, and all that”, she grinned widely. “How about we get some lunch?”

He had managed to avoid her since Monday, slipping out of the office to pick up sandwiches he then ate in the communal break area or on a bench in the small park area a couple of blocks away. It had given him time to reflect on things and Jon had enjoyed that. On Wednesday it had rained and he’d spent a good half hour talking to Erena and Edda about the second year modules offered at WHU Law. 

“Oh, well, erhm, see – “ Jon floundered as he searched for an excuse, feeling a complete failure at this. How to be polite, yet clear that he understood she flirted with him and he wasn’t interested in her?

“What Jon is trying to say is that we already made plans”, said Sansa, smoothing things over. “He promised to give me some advice on a present I need to buy for my brother’s girlfriend. Jon knows Jeyne so much better than I do. And I promised him lunch in return as a sort of thank you.”

_Thank the Seven Kingdoms for Sansa._

“Sorry”, Jon apologised. “As Sansa said, we already made plans for lunchtime.”

“Another time then”, Myranda replied, a glint in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow at Jon and then winked before turning and heading back to the section of the office where she, Sansa and the other two admin interns had been seated. 

Jon felt a sigh of relief escape him at her departure. “Thank you. I know I should be enough of an adult to tell her that I’m not interested in her that way, but…..”

“You don’t want to make a working relationship awkward”, Sansa finished. Jon nodded. Robb would’ve laughed at him for this, he knew, Sam would’ve been sympathetic and Theon……..Theon would most likely have engineered as many situations as possible in which Jon and Myranda crossed paths simply because of the amusement that it’d cause. 

This internship was important to Jon and as much as he was being held back by his own social skills, or lack thereof, in rebuffing Myranda’s suggestiveness, he also didn’t want it to affect the opinion Ned, Jeor and the other permanent members of staff had of him. He wanted them to see someone who was professional and hard working – not someone who was using his position to get laid.

Sansa stood up and looked at him expectantly. “So, lunch.”

“You don’t actually need to – “

Sansa looked a little sheepish. “The truth is that I do, very much, need some advice on Jeyne’s birthday present. I only really got time to spend with her last week and you’ve known her for months now.”

“Okay”, Jon agreed. After all, he had it in mind that one of his goals this summer was to get to know Sansa better as a friend and not simply as Robb’s sister. “Why don’t we go to that new diner that’s opened up along the street? I haven’t been there yet, but my mother has and the reviews on the _Northern Times_ website looking pretty good.”

“Gage’s?” Jon nodded. “That sounds promising. I saw a lot of good comments on their Facebook page when I was searching for places to go for lunch the other day. I think my parents have been too. But, in the end, I chickened out from experimenting and went to Mordane’s.”

“Something followed by lemon cakes?” Jon guessed. He pulled together his things and made sure his wallet was in his back pocket.

“Chicken salad with couscous. So I at least had something healthy before I had sugar-coated lemon cakes”, Sansa replied sheepishly. But Jon liked that she ate lemon cakes. He’d met far too many young women throughout his life that ate like rabbits and refused to treat themselves to anything unhealthy for fear of putting on half a pound.

“I like the filled baguettes they have there”, said Jon. He had stopped by with his mother last week in the midst of their shopping trip. She had insisted on taking him out to buy the suit he was currently wearing and spare shirts, ties and shoes. 

They walked out of the Stark & Sons offices and down the street, chattering away about the virtues and vices of Mordane’s Bakery. While Sansa loved the lemon cakes, Jon admitted he had a soft spot for the chocolate chip cookies and muffins. And he knew his mother adored the gingerbread cakes and biscuits they made there. 

By the time they reached Gage’s, Jon’s mouth was watering. It had been a long time since breakfast and he’d only made himself some toast and grabbed a banana. Ghost had wanted a long walk and the silly mutt had pushed his way into Jon’s life and heart and it had quickly become the case that what Ghost wanted, Ghost got.

The decoration of the diner depicted key moments in the history of the North and was very much a _Northern_ diner. Although it had other dishes on the menu Jon had quickly scanned outside while Sansa answered a text from Bran about what gift he should purchase to take to Mr and Mrs Reed when he went to stay, the diner was targeted at Northerners who wanted Northern, gamey food. There was venison and beef aplenty. 

Jon would _not_ have recommended the diner to a vegan.

They were given a good table, next to the window. Jon allowed Sansa to sit first and sat down opposite her. The server left them with menus and went to get their drinks, a fresh orange and lemonade for Sansa and a ginger ale for Jon. 

They had spoken so little when they were growing up. Yes, they had discussed when Robb would be in or what Arya had been punished for most recently, but they had shared few in-depth, meaningful discussions. But it left Jon with little idea what to talk to Sansa about.

He searched for safe ground, recalling their last lunchtime meeting. “How was the book? As good as you hoped?”

“Book?” She seemed confused at first, but Jon soon saw comprehension appear on her face. “You mean the one I bought on Monday? I haven’t had a chance to read all of it yet. Just a few chapters, but it is good so far.”

“Is it a bit strange? Reading books about books?” Jon asked.

“Perhaps at first, but literary criticism books have opened my eyes so much to the history and traditions of literature and story-telling. They’ve helped me work on picking out patterns and themes and character archetypes myself.” Jon smiled. It was clear that Sansa was very engaged by her field of study. “Besides, your undergrad degree is Northern History, right?”

“Yes….”

“You read different interpretations of the same events by historians who have studied the same documents and primary sources and yet have come to different conclusions. You are essentially reading an historical version of literary criticism”, Sansa argued. She returned to her menu, but Jon was impressed and hard pressed to disagree with her.

“I never thought of it that way”, he admitted. And what Sansa had said was true. So much of the secondary sources he’d read had then influenced his processing and dissection of the primary sources he encountered. They were both looking for arguments and bias, just in different fields. “You’re right.”

“One ginger ale and one fresh orange and lemonade.” The server had returned with their drinks. “Are you both ready to order?”

Jon looked over at Sansa. He’d already decided, but didn’t want to hurry her up. He hated when people did the same to him. 

“I’m ready”, she replied. “I’ll have the chicken salad baguette and – actually, no, just the baguette. I was thinking about the sweet potato fries but I don’t think I could eat an entire portion.”

“The BLT ciabatta with the bacon crispy, please. And we’ll take a portion of the sweet potato fries to share.”

“You didn’t need to do that”, Sansa told him when the server had gone. “If I’m going to be training properly for the fun race then I shouldn’t really be eating things like sweet potato fries. Not when I’m over at Mordane’s every day for lemon cakes or muffins.”

“A few fries won’t do you any harm. There’s nothing to you, Sansa.” She got a look on her face that Jon couldn’t read and he hastily tried to move them to safer ground. “A little of vitamin A will do us both some good. So, you really are serious about the run?

“I am. It’ll give me focus. And it’s all for a good cause. I can benefit society as well as myself. I thought I’d go for a training run on Sunday, cover a bit of the route. I saw it on the website you told me about.”

Jon had mentioned it in passing but hadn’t expected Sansa to be so serious. When they were younger, she’d hated anything that led to nasty sweat. Arya had teased her about it badly. But Jon was swiftly being reminded more and more that Sansa the girl was not Sansa the woman. 

“What part of it were you thinking of doing?” he asked. 

“The last 5k – the part covered by the shorter race. If I’m nowhere near able to do that at this point then I doubt its worth applying for the longer distance. I think I’ll be able to do it. I managed not too badly last Sunday, but I picked a fairly even route. That hill!”

Jon laughed, recalling his own reaction to see this year’s route. “Yeah, it might be my downfall as much as yours. But running the actual 5k route is a pretty good idea. It’ll give a baseline at least – would you mind having a running buddy?”

“That would be good, actually”, Sansa replied a moment or so later. There was a pause, but not a loud one. Jon wondered if he was perhaps pushing in on too much of Sansa’s free time. And they were working together. It was a lot of time to spend with someone else. Jon wouldn’t have thought twice about it if it were Robb, but he and Robb were far closer than Jon had ever been with Sansa. “Here.”

Sansa handed over her phone. Jon typed in his name and number and gave it back. Sansa immediately sent him a text and he saved her details. 

“Now we’re definitely friends”, she told him. “I don’t give out my number to just anybody.”

“I can’t believe I never had it before”, he mused aloud. He even had Rickon’s number, and could remember when the younger Starks got their first phones and insisted they add his number to their list.

“That is a new number. I’ve only had it a year or so.” So, she’d had to change her number post-Joffrey then. Or wanted to at least. Again, Jon felt the need to change the subject.

“Important friend question – who is your favourite Harry Potter character?” he asked her. Sansa looked surprised and then laughed loudly, attracting the attention of the people sitting at the next table. Jon didn’t mind. 

“That is an important friend question?”

“You can tell a lot from the answer to that question”, Jon replied. “After all, could you really be friends with someone who told you Crabbe or Goyle was their favourite character?”

Sansa looked thoughtful. “It’s been too long since I read those books. Hermione. We share a love of books and start out living by the rules, but come to learn that there are more important things. Like loyalty. I have to say though, I do admire Luna’s complete disregard for what others think of her. And yours?”

“Neville.”

“Interesting. I would’ve guessed Harry.”

“Any reason why?”

Sansa shrugged. “None in particular. I just think the two of you are a bit alike in some ways.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of their food. A single bite into the ciabatta told Jon he would most definitely be coming back to this diner – and would try something a bit meatier next time, now he knew how well the chefs could cook.

Jon picked up a sweet potato fry and ate it. He’d never tried them before and he’d seen Sansa had wanted them, but tried to deny herself. When she’d come home from King’s Landing for the holidays last year, Jon had noticed she seemed slighter each time. And Sansa had never been fat. Jon knew Robb suspected Joffrey was pushing her to lose weight but Sansa had never had much to lose. 

“These are actually quite good”, Jon told her. He was surprised. Jon had come across far too many healthy alternatives that were completely devoid of taste as much as additives.

“You seem surprised. Have – Jon, had you not tried them before? You shouldn’t have ordered them just for me – “

Jon shook his head. “I wanted to try them. Honestly. I need to expand my food horizons, especially here at home. We tend to be very repetitive with our food choices. On the subject of food – and Harry Potter – which three characters, alive or dead in the main books, would you invite to a dinner party?”

It wasn’t until they were back at his desk, going through the remainder of the depositions, Jon realised they hadn’t actually discussed Jeyne’s birthday present.

-

Sansa took full advantage of the opportunity to lie in bed without having the dread of an alarm clock on Saturday morning. It was blissful not to be forced out of bed before she was ready and instead to simply lie there and think, scrolling lazily through the _Northern Times_ website on her phone and reading another chapter of her book. 

This past semester, she’d had a couple of days during the week in which none of her classes had lectures or tutorials. Everything was crammed into three days. It had taken away some of the magic of a weekend. Free time in which activities could be chosen rather than forced. 

She and Jon had arranged to go for a run but that was something for Sunday. 

Jon Snow. 

It was strange for Sansa to think of him as _her_ friend as much as Robb’s and Arya’s and Bran’s and Rickon’s. She had a new number on her phone and a new friend in her life. Sansa reflected, not for the first time, that Jon was really the first true friend she had made since leaving Wintertown for King’s Landing. 

It had been strange to sit opposite him at lunch and yet it felt a little familiar at the same time, given how often he had been over to the Stark family home for dinner over the years. They’d been so engrossed in their talk of books and running and Harry Potter and favourite restaurants in Wintertown and the videos and pictures Jon had taken of Ghost that they didn’t quite seem to make it onto the topic of Jeyne’s birthday present – something Sansa hadn’t realized until halfway through the afternoon. 

She had genuinely meant to ask his advice. It was just that they kept finding other things to talk about. That topic would need to be revisited in the next few days.

It was refreshing to find someone who asked her questions; someone who was interested in what she had to say. Sansa couldn’t help comparing him to Joff and Marge and all the others she had met in King’s Landing. Jon didn’t scoff at the books she read, he asked if she enjoyed them. Jon didn’t tell her she was stupid and provincial, he said she’d made a good argument. Jon didn’t frown when she ordered something more substantial than a wilting salad, he ordered them sweet potato fries to share so she would eat them. 

Jon was what her father would’ve called _a winter friend_. He was someone who would be there whether things were good or bad. 

Sansa yawned and stretched out, deciding on a shower to begin her day. She had no fixed plans and was as free as a bird to do as she pleased. It was a sunny day outside and one that could be spent away from the house, perhaps. 

The isolation she had endured in King’s Landing had led Sansa to the enjoyment of her own company. She kept her own hours and spent her time as she wished. It was the only perk of her lack of company in the South. It was therefore a surprise to Sansa, when she went down to breakfast, to find herself invited out and the plans she had formed in the shower to take a picnic and a book to the park set aside. 

“Gendry has to work today and it’s my day off from training. Do you want to go ten-pin bowling and then grab some lunch”, Arya mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

“ _Oh_.” Sansa was surprised. Even though she and Arya were far closer than they’d been before, it was still rare for them to actively socialize with each other one-on-one. Mostly, Sansa involved herself more with her siblings as a group than she had in childhood. Her plans for a book and a picnic faded, but Sansa wasn’t disappointed with what they were being replaced by.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Arya asked.

“A yes”, Sansa nodded. “I don’t have any plans I can’t change. Where would you like to eat?”

“Hobb’s Diner. They have great eggs. And they sell those leafy salad things you like.” Sansa smiled at that. Arya had such a way of putting things. Once it would have exasperated Sansa and now it amused her. She was also proud of how little Arya cared what people outside of her circle of family and friends thought of her. 

Sansa wished she had that ability to not let things bother her. 

“I’m sure I can find something on the menu a bit more appetizing than a leafy salad thing”, said Sansa. “I even had fries with lunch yesterday. Sweet potato fries, but still fries.”

“Good. Do you need to change?”

Sansa looked down at the jeans and loose, sleeveless top she had put on after her shower. Once, she would’ve agonized over the outfit and spent half an hour selecting something else. Now, Sansa determined in about half a second that what she was wearing was as serviceable for ten-pin bowling and lunch in a diner as it would’ve been for a picnic. 

“Why would I need to change?”

“You don’t. We leave in an hour.”

With that blunt reply, Arya had left the room and Sansa hadn’t seen her again until they left, as promised, an hour later. Their parents waved them off, spending the day as they did any fine Saturday in summer, working in the garden. Howland had called on Thursday to say he wouldn’t be able to pick Bran up until Sunday, otherwise Sansa knew her mother would’ve been in the kitchen preparing some home baking for Bran to take with him to Greywater as a thank you.

The ten-pin bowling alley in Wintertown was situated half a dozen or so blocks away from the office Sansa had spent her working week in. Not that there was a whole lot of town here, even compared to White Harbour. It was housed in a large, red brick building that also included an arcade (in which Sansa suspected Rickon spent a great deal of his free time, particularly now he was no longer grounded) and a lot out back with miniature golf. 

As it was summer, the place was busy and Sansa and Arya had to wait quarter of an hour before a lane became free. 

“’Bout time”, Arya grumbled, but she settled herself on the bench well enough while Sansa sorted out her bag and the cardigan she’d brought with her (it may be summer, but they were in the _North_ ) and separated out the balls.

“Blue or red?” Sansa asked her. 

“Red. Do you have a coin to flip to decide who goes first?” Sansa nodded and pulled one from her pocket. Arya won the toss and picked up one of the red balls, preparing to strike. Sansa watched her sister intently, knowing Arya was good at this and wanting to pick up on her technique. By the time the ball had disappeared out of sight there was a single pin left standing. 

It was a good thing, perhaps, that she wasn’t as competitive as Arya and Robb and Rickon, because Sansa knew virtually within an instant that there was very little chance of her winning.

-

Sansa’s prediction proved accurate. When they sat down in the window booth at Gage’s, Arya was crowing over her victory. And Sansa’s annihilation had been public. They had run into Robin Flint and a few friends at the bowling alley and he’d been witness to one of Sansa’s worst attempts – which had ended up in a neighbouring lane. 

“Yeah, yeah”, chuckled Sansa, knowing her sister’s crowing was all in good humour. 

“I have spent years being told by teachers how amazing my sister is and how I don’t live up to her so this is another instance of me putting two fingers up to them!”

“They just failed to recognize that we have different strengths”, said Sansa. She picked up the menu and glanced through it. It had a wide range of options but Sansa wasn’t sure what she wanted to eat. She meant what she’d said to Arya. Her sister had so many talents Sansa could only dream of. 

“Thank you. You wouldn’t have said that a few years ago.”

“You wouldn’t have _listened_ to anything I said a few years ago.”

“That’s fair”, Arya shrugged. “I’m going to have poached eggs on wholemeal toast. How about you?”

“Not sure.” Sansa twitched her nose and then did something she’d once seen Robb do while out for a meal. She looked around her and tried to pick up on what the other patrons were having. Perhaps something would jump out at her. Nothing seemed to. She supposed she could have scrambled eggs on toast. Arya had said the eggs here were good. Or…..the Oldtown Salsa Salad sounded alright. 

But then, when the server came over to take their order, Sansa could a whiff and sight of the burger going to the next table. She could smell and see the fried onions popping out the side of the bun and the hint of melted cheese. 

“I’ll have a fresh orange juice and one of those”, said Sansa, pointing at the burger. She treated herself like this rarely and would, in any case, be running at least 5k tomorrow – by far enough to run off this lunch. 

“Good choice”, commented Arya. “I’ll have the poached eggs on wholemeal and a fresh pineapple juice.”

“I wonder what Robb’s doing this weekend”, sighed Sansa. Her brother had sent the odd text message during the week but had yet to make plans for a video chat. Sansa knew he would be busy, but that didn’t stop her missing him. Even when she’d been in King’s Landing, they had spoken on video chat twice a week.

“You heard from him much?”

“A couple of texts. You?”

“The same.” The server brought over their drinks and Arya took a large gulp of her pineapple juice. “What about you? Any plans for tomorrow?”

“A run with Jon. Training for the fun race. We thought we’d tackle the 5k route to see what our baselines are.”

“He did 10k on the treadmill when he and Robb came to try and show me up in training, but it isn’t the same as road running. No inclines. I didn’t think you and Jon were friends.”

“Why shouldn’t we be?” Sansa hoped she didn’t sound defensive. “We’ve hung out a couple of times at lunch, we’ve been working together all week. Jon is decent – he’s a nice guy. And we were both going to be going for runs, so we figured we might as well go together.”

She and Arya may be closer than they had been in the past, and Sansa now had so, so much more trust in her sister, but she still didn’t want to admit that Jon’s friendship was coming to mean a lot to her. Like Arya herself, Sansa felt that Jon stood in contrast to everyone she had met in the South. 

“I’m hoping he’ll give me some advice on what to get Jeyne for her birthday.”

“That isn’t until the end of the summer”, scoffed Arya, with the dismissive tone of someone who usually started their Christmas shopping the day before Christmas Eve. “What did you think of her?”

“I liked her.” And Sansa had. Jeyne was open, friendly and genuine and kept Robb on his toes.

“Me too. Though what she sees in _Robb_ , I don’t understand.”

Sansa chuckled. “Okay, her bad taste in that area aside, I liked her.” Their teasing of their older brother was one of the few things Sansa and Arya had long had in common. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a feeling she’ll be around for a while.” Sansa made a point of not contradicting Arya when she was right. 

-

The following day, Sansa looked back fondly on the Saturday she had spent with her sister. Sansa felt she may have earned Arya’s everlasting respect for the burger she’d selected. She couldn’t ever remember eating fast food like that in public before, but she’d seen the server walk past with one and decided that one burger wouldn’t do her any harm. 

Besides, she had a long run with Jon to dispense with all the calories the burger brought with it. 

While she got dressed in her running gear, Sansa reflected on the surprise Arya had expressed that she and Jon were planning to go for a run. She had thought about coming with them but then decided against it. Arya was now ensconced in the gym with Gendry and would, Sansa thought, remain there most of the day as they prepared for the forthcoming tournament in Torrhen’s Square.

Although Sansa thought she had a bit of time to get ready, when she went down it was to find Jon chatting with her father. Sansa had to shake herself out of noticing that Jon actually looked really good in his workout gear, with his normally untameable curls loosely tied back. 

“You ready?” Jon asked. He seemed keen to get started and probably realized as much as Sansa did herself that if they didn’t leave straight away, they were more likely than not to be drawn into some activity or other by Rickon and end up missing out on their run. 

“Almost. I just need to fill up my water bottle”, Sansa replied. She ran through to the kitchen, pulled out the bottle from the cupboard and filled it up to the brim with the filtered water she kept in the fridge. Sansa couldn’t abide room temperature water and although it wasn’t as warm in Wintertown as it was in King’s Landing – and the water quality was far superior here at home – she had retained the habit. 

When she returned to the hallway, Jon was talking to her father. Sansa knew, however, when she heard mention of the footballer Hyle Hunt that she was not interrupting anything of real substance when she announced her readiness to leave. Her father could discuss Hyle Hunt’s abysmal passing with Robb, over the phone or on video chat, or Rickon.

The start point of the 5k element of the race began only a few minutes away from the Stark home, and so Sansa had suggested simply walking to what would be the start line. 

“Did you get up to much yesterday?” Sansa asked as they waited to cross the road, an endless stream of traffic heading somewhere. 

“Not really. Ghost and I took a drive out to the Wolfswood proper and went for a long walk. It was such a nice day when we got back that it was suggested, by you can guess whom, we take Ghost to a dog-friendly pub with a garden for dinner.”

“I have to say I agree with Lyanna. That would’ve been a good way to spend a summery day. Arya trounced me at ten-pin bowling.”

“I’m sure she would’ve trounced me too”, Jon replied. “She’s probably the most competitive person I’ve ever met. Tough little thing.”

Sansa could hear the softness in his voice. Arya had spent her entire live seeing Jon as yet another elder brother and she could see that Jon felt exactly the same way. Arya was the little sister he’d never had. Sansa didn’t want to be Jon’s sister, though, she wanted to be his friend. 

“She is. And I wouldn’t have her any other way. I could do with some of her competitive spirit for this race. Not in terms of winning, but beating myself and my expectations perhaps?” Sansa wanted to run the full 10k. All that was needed now for her to believe in herself enough to. 

“There it is”, said Jon. He pointed at the hill in the distance that Sansa thought might be her downfall. She’d have to run it whether or not she opted for the longer distance. 

“There it is”, she echoed. “Arya said you’d managed 10k last week. On the treadmill.”

“I didn’t have to deal with that hill on the treadmill and it took everything out of me to make it to the end”, Jon admitted, grimacing. “I used to be able to do that without feeling so much pain. But you know how it is – studying for exams eats into so much of your time. Still, in the future I think I should try harder to fit a run in. Even if I only have time for 2 or 3k.”

“We should do some warm-ups before we get started.” When Sansa had spoken to Arya about getting into running, her sister had impressed upon her the importance of warming up and cooling down muscles to avoid injuries. Sansa had taken the advice seriously and now set to doing a number of stretches that had become routine to her. 

The afternoon was warm but not overly so and as it was Sunday there was a lack of traffic on the roads to hold them up. Nonetheless, Sansa had taken the time to coat her skin in a light covering of sunscreen. After all, a redhead could never be _too_ careful.

“You want a hand?” Jon asked. Sansa nodded and leaned on his shoulder while she bent each leg in turn and then shook it out. It was good this, having a running partner. If things worked out then maybe they might do this again. While Sansa had primarily used running as a way of clearing her mind, if they were going to be doing this even semi-competitively then it would be good to have a motivator alongside her. 

Sansa glanced at Jon, engrossed in his own warm-up routine. She wondered how much he needed this. Robb was in the Westerlands and the rest of his friends scattered for the summer. Jon had never been one for a large crowd but that didn’t mean he craved the solitude Sansa had found herself with over the last year or so. Maybe Jon was as in need of a new friend as she was. 

And maybe this was the right time for them to become friends. 


	8. Night Out, Night In

“Have you finished with the Forrester file?” Sansa looked up at the sound of Myranda’s voice. “Porther needs it as soon as you’re done.”

“Five minutes? I’ve just got to double check a couple of things from the audio first”, Sansa replied. Myranda rolled her eyes.

“You want to take it through to him, then? He seems to like you far more than he likes me. He called me _young lady_.” Myranda wrinkled up her nose, as if this was the worst insult she’d ever heard. 

Sansa chuckled. She had learned over the last couple of days, as they had got to know each other a little better during week two, that Myranda had a tendency towards the dramatic. Her father had mentioned over dinner at the weekend that Myranda’s father and his cousin were old friends from his time in the Vale during under-grad and Sansa had forced herself to make an effort. 

Not all children of her father’s friends from his youth would turn out to be Joffreys. Many and more would be Gendrys. She had to remember that.

Myranda was cheeky, smart and had a good sense of humour. She did not take herself seriously but was a good reader of others. Mostly. Sansa was sure Myranda had yet to figure out that Jon wasn’t really interested in her. It worried her that one day she would find herself caught in the middle and forced to spell it out to Myranda – possibly in Jon’s presence. 

“I’m sure Porther was just trying to be polite”, Sansa suggested. She looked down at the notes she’d taken and double-checked it against a section in the Forrester file. Sansa did not mention that the permanent staff probably treated her with kid gloves. They had their careers to think of and rudeness in the direction of Ned Stark’s daughter wasn’t exactly the best way to plan advancement.

“Are you coming out with the rest of us on Friday?” Arra had mentioned her birthday was coming up that weekend, and Myranda had taken it upon herself to try and organize a night out for the intern staff to celebrate. “There must be some nightlife in this place.”

“Probably”, Sansa shrugged, trying to complete the Forrester file work. Her night at the pub with Robb and the rest of them had been her only night out since returning home. She deserved some fun and was sure her parents would have no complaints about her missing out on family time. After all, Bran and Robb were both away from home and Arya often stayed over at Gendry’s at the weekend.

“A good party, that’s what we need. A quick meal to line our stomachs and then off out for a night on the town”, Myranda sighed. “I haven’t had one since I’ve been here.”

Sansa could almost hear the pout in Myranda’s voice.

“Perhaps I will meet a nice Northern man. Well, not _too_ nice, of course. I like the Northern accent. Very growly. It does things to me, the growlyness.”

“Growlyness? Is that even a real word?”

“Words are invented and added to the dictionary every year. Why shouldn’t they add one of mine?” Myranda’s eyes sparkled with humour. “I’m hoping to round everyone up and get all eleven of us out. Promise you’ll come?”

“I think I will”, Sansa decided. She needed to get out and socialize more – with people who were not related to her. In the past twelve months, a lunch to celebrate Mya’s birthday aside, Sansa couldn’t recall actively socializing with either Jon or someone she wasn’t related to. Sansa closed the Forrester file and stood up. “I’ll go and take this through to Porther.”

Sansa could feel her stomach starting to protest at the hour. She glanced at her watch and saw it was almost time for lunch. A smile started to grow on her face as she walked through the office. She and Jon had decided to go to the book store café for lunch today. 

Monday had been a beautiful summer’s day with the sun shining bright, so they’d bought sandwiches at the grocery store and eaten them in the park nearby. Tuesday had been duller but they’d countered it with lunch at Mordane’s. Jon had asked if they could go to the book store café today because he needed to pick up a book Lyanna had pre-ordered. 

They had discussed running and books they’d read and the shows Sansa had been bingeing on Netflix in the evenings since she returned. Robb came into conversation every so often – as did Arya, with Jon mentioning she’d asked him to come to her next match in Torrhen’s Square – but mostly they talked about themselves. _Their_ interests. _Their_ opinions. And it was a two-way street. Jon was an attentive listener and allowed Sansa to get her point across.

Sansa was finding that building a friendship with Jon was perhaps the best part of her summer thus far. 

Porther took the Forrester file without complaint and thanked her for bringing it through. He called her _Miss Stark_ and Sansa found nothing amiss with his manner. When she returned to her desk it was to an e-mail from Jory confirming her leave day in just over two weeks – the day of her appointment at WHU. 

-

“Are you going to this night out that Myranda is organizing for Friday?” Sansa asked him when they’d sat down at their table. Jon fidgeted with the wrapping on the salad bowl he’d selected. He hadn’t given an answer to Myranda as yet. 

“Perhaps.” He liked Arra well enough and knew she didn’t really know anyone in town. “Are you?”

“I think I’ve talked myself into it. Or, I’ve allowed Myranda to persuade me a little. But I think it’ll do me good. The only night out I’ve had since I’ve been home was when we met you and Lyanna at _Castle Black_.”

Jon was a little surprised at that, but not perhaps as much as he would’ve been a few weeks ago. He’d always seen Sansa as a very sociable person but at the same time he could tell that there were things relating to King’s Landing – and, more specifically, Joffrey – that remained unsaid. Not for the last time, Jon wondered if Robb had been keeping his own counsel or if he was misinterpreting some of what Sansa said. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think all my nights out since I’ve come home have involved my mother.”

“Yeah, but your mother’s pretty cool. And you’ve always socialized together, right? So, do you think you’ll come?”

“Why not?” Jon found himself agreeing. “I guess I could come out for a meal and a few drinks. If all else fails then at least we’ll have each other to talk to.”

“True”, Sansa replied through a mouthful of food. “Gods, but this quiche is amazing. You want to try some?”

“I’ll take your word for it. Quiche has never really been my thing. Are you still up for a run this evening?” Their Sunday run had gone well and since they’d both completed the 5k without collapsing had decided to enter the 10k. With a few weeks of proper training, it would not be a stretch for them to both run good times. They had also decided that having a running buddy would be a good motivation for training after a long day at work.

“Around eight?”

“Sounds good to me. It’ll give me time to take Ghost out for a walk first.” His mother had another wave of night shifts starting that would take her through to Sunday morning. Jon knew she did over and above her fair share of them – far more than the previous ER Nurse Manager. 

“Do you have – “

“Here.” Jon took his phone out and clicked into the file of pictures he’d started collecting for Ghost. The pup had his own file now – Jon had never kept enough pictures on his phone to give one subject their own file before. 

“Thank you. Aww, he’s just so cute!” Jon snorted. “What?”

“You wouldn’t always think him so cute if you had to spend half an hour getting white dog hairs off your work suit. Or cleaning up the mess he made when he peed in your car.”

“He’s just a pup. He’s still learning”, Sansa replied. She got a look in her eyes that Ghost alone seemed able to produce. A look of pure adoration. “You could always take him to puppy training classes. I don’t think he’s too old for that. He didn’t have the best start in life, from what you’ve told me, and maybe he needs a little help getting settled.”

“I guess I could look into that.” Jon knew he should’ve thought of it himself. “Did you see the first episode of that new drama series last night? The one about the Second Blackfyre Rebellion?”

“No spoilers!” Sansa told him, raising her hands to cover her ears. Jon smiled. He remembered Robb telling him about Sansa locking herself away in her room when their _Deathly Hallows_ books had arrived and refusing to come out until she had finished it, scared it would be spoiled for her. “I haven’t had a chance to watch it yet.”

“Let me know when you have. I know the actor who plays Gormon Peake was in that show you used to watch about Mistwood High School years ago. He played the headmaster in it.” Sansa had been obsessed with that show. Jon could recall her watching it on repeat sometimes when he went over to the Stark house to see Robb. 

“I haven’t seen that show in _years_.” Jon could hear the nostalgia in her voice and empathised. Sometimes it was hard to come to terms with adulthood and to think of the TV shows and books and comics of his childhood. 

“As far as I know you can catch repeats on Netflix. I think I will look for puppy training classes for Ghost.” 

“Oh, here.” Sansa returned his phone. “So, you’ll come on Friday night, then?”

“Yeah.” Maybe then he’d be forced into telling Myranda he wasn’t interested and get it over and done with. It was so much easier to do that after a drink or two.

-

Although she would’ve been fine walking into the restaurant on her own, there was a part of Sansa that had been relieved when Jon suggested over their Thursday lunch that his cab pick her up. She stood in the family room, watching out the window for said cab to arrive. Jon had texted a couple of minutes earlier that it had picked him up and would be with her shortly. 

“You look lovely, sweetheart.” Sansa turned round at the sound of her mother’s voice. “I’m so pleased that you’re getting on with the other interns. It must be hard for you, going three months without seeing your friends from King’s Landing.”

“I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to miss much of anything – well, aside from Robb”, Sansa replied. She glanced down at the green summer dress she had chosen for the occasion and smiled. It was a nice dress, though Sansa had seldom worn it since buying it at a sale just before returning to King’s Landing for the start of her second year. 

Joffrey would have hated it and said she wasn’t dressed smartly enough. Marge and the others would’ve looked down at her for wearing a dress from a firm based _in the North_. Sansa liked it, though. And she didn’t need to care what Joff, Marge and the others from their friend group thought. Not anymore. 

She didn’t even need to see them ever again. Not if she didn’t want to. 

Sansa heard the unmistakeable sound of a car coming into the stony driveway and noted Jon’s cab had arrived. She kissed her mother’s cheek, quickly called a farewell to her father and Rickon – currently watching Friday night football in the family room – and went out to the cab. It was a nice evening, with the sky still as blue as it had been all day and the air fraught with humidity. Sansa hoped they were not on the verge of a heatwave. 

“Thanks”, she said to Jon, who had pushed open the door from the inside. She looked across to see him sat behind the driver, wearing black jeans and a plain dark grey top with sleeves that reached just past his elbow. Sansa resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. This was so like almost every other outfit she’d ever seen Jon in for a night out. Men had it so much easier. Nobody batted an eyelid when _they_ went to every social occasion dressed in the same thing. 

The cab drive to the restaurant didn’t take too long. Myranda – apparently having discussed food preferences with Arra – had selected _Nightfort_ , a gothic-themed restaurant a few minutes away from _Castle Black_ , for the meal. Sansa hadn’t been before but the restaurant had their menu available online and she’d taken the time to peruse it while her father drove her home and asked how her week had gone.

“I need to not drink too much wine tonight. I promised to take Rickon to some event tomorrow for a new computer game that’s coming out.” Sansa had forgotten about the computer event when she agreed to come on the night out. But she wasn’t about to let her brother down just so she could get drunk. Family was more important to her than that.

“Yeah, I’m not planning on getting hammered just for the sake of it”, Jon agreed. “I’ll be your water buddy when you want to switch. You never know, maybe some of the others won’t drink at all.”

“No luck in that department. Myranda already checked. I told her you did to save you from another conversation with her. She was positively gleeful to find out there was no one among us willing to admit to being tee-total.”

“That’s us here”, the cab driver told them. Jon insisted on paying, arguing that he would’ve been taking the cab regardless of picking up Sansa, and the two of them went inside. Sansa immediately spotted Myranda at a large table set up for them in the corner. 

Her heart sank when she reached the table and saw that she and Jon were last to arrive. Everyone else must be staying closer to the centre of Wintertown, she supposed. There were two seats left. One was next to Myranda, and the other was at the head of the table, in between Will and Harry. 

“I’ll speak to you after the meal then, I guess”, Jon muttered. He seemed a bit disappointed. Sansa knew he wasn’t the best at making small talk. Jon started to move towards the seat between Will and Harry, but was stopped by Myranda.

“Jon, there’s a seat for you here.” She indicated the place next to herself. 

“Oh – I thought that Sansa – “

“The purpose of tonight – other than celebrating Arra’s birthday, _of course_ – is for us all to get to know each other a little better. Sansa hasn’t been able to work with the boys and she puts up with my ramblings all the time, poor soul. Come. Sit. We shouldn’t be seated according to our status or groupings at work, should we?”

“Uh, no. No, I guess not.” 

Sansa gave him a consoling pat on the back and walked off to her own personal doom. Will would no doubt chat to Kyle, on the other side of him, and she’d be stuck with Harry. Her father had mentioned Harry to her since they’d started. He was the nephew of a cousin of her Uncle Jon, or something to that effect, and Uncle Jon had taken a special interest in his career. 

She took her seat, murmured polite greetings to those around her and then picked up the menu. Sansa had already chosen her starter, main course and dessert after reading it online earlier, but it gave her something of a barrier against Harry’s flirting. It was something she managed to avoid as far as possible at the office but it was still there.

“Looking very lovely tonight as always, Stark”, Harry told her. Sansa smiled politely and looked intensely at the description of the _Frostfangs Chicken_ dish. _Chicken stuffed with elk meat, in a red wine jus, served with creamy mashed potatoes and seasonal local vegetables._ “I like a woman who isn’t afraid to show off her legs. Provided she’s got good reason to, of course.”

Sansa wished Arya were here. 

She glanced down the table and saw Jon looking uncomfortably at his own menu, Myranda moving as close to him as possible. 

They really should have taken an earlier cab. 

-

Jon tugged at the collar of his top and wished fervently that he’d thought to suggest an earlier time for his cab booking to Sansa. He’d been too busy thinking about the time she would want to get ready to consider being later than everyone else. 

The scent of Myranda’s perfume was overpowering. Ygritte and Val had never tended to go over the top with such things, and Sansa used something with a light vanilla scent. But the overwhelming stench of flowers did not help Jon. In fact, it made him want to sneeze or scratch his itchy eyes. He peered closer at the menu. He still had his contacts in but the sole lighting was candles in gothic holders and candlesticks. 

He would have been persuaded to come if Robb were home for the summer, he knew. And he would still probably have been sat here wondering how early he could slip away. 

“So, Sansa says you’ve known her for a while, then? Almost like one of the family”, Myranda purred. 

“Yeah, I’ve known Sansa a long time”, Jon agreed. As for one of the family, yes he saw Robb as his brother in all but blood and Arya was his surrogate sister, but Jon had never seen Sansa as a pseudo-sibling. She’d always just been….. _Sansa_. “Do – do you have a large family?”

“Just me and Al. He refuses to let anyone call him by his full name and I quite agree. What sort of name is Albar anyway, right? Almost as silly as naming someone _Albus_. He’s older than me and can be over-protective when he wants to be. How about you? Any brothers? Sisters?” 

Any hope in hell Myranda had ever had with him was now gone. Albus was _not_ a silly name.

“It’s always just been my mother and I.” 

Thankfully he was saved from further conversation at that moment by the server coming over to take their order. Ronnel, it seemed, had a couple of food intolerances – Jon could hear Harry’s huffs and puffs about that from the other end of the table – and it seemed Erena was a vegan, so there was much discussion about ingredients. Then Myranda had insisted they should order a few bottles of wine _for the table_. Jon knew he’d be picking up a good pay packet through his time with the firm, but he still had the forthcoming semester to consider and Gendry’s assertion that his rustbucket would most likely need replacing within the year. 

This was already looking to be an expensive night. 

Jon looked up at the other end of the table. Sansa seemed to have engaged Will and Kyle in conversation about something and he was sure that was what had Harry pouting and loudly expressing his opinion. 

“So, what were we talking about?” Myranda asked when the server had left. “Ah yes, families. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. So, Sansa says you go to WHU. What’s the nightlife like down there? As lacking as it seems to be here? That’s always been one of my favourite parts of Gulltown.”

“White Habour’s got lots going for it”, Jon replied, ignoring the leg pressed firmly against his own. He had come to love the small, Northern city in his time there. It had been a bit overwhelming in his first semester as an under-grad, living in such a big place compared to Wintertown, but Jon had grown used to it. “The area around WHU is very student-friendly. And Gulltown?”

“Gulltown can be a bit dull at times, but there’s usually a party to be found if you’re willing to go looking for one. You ever considered modelling? There’s a guy I know, Corbray, a photography post-grad student. He does some life model classes for under-grads. Drawing and photography and sculpture. I took a couple of them this past year as electives. Very, very interesting.”

“I’m happy with the legal profession, thanks.” Jon caught Edda’s eye. “Did you get the e-mail earlier today about next semester?”

He knew he was being rude in changing the subject, barging in on Edda’s conversation and effectively ignoring Myranda, but Jon didn’t want to get into asking her to back off until after their meal and he most definitely did not want to do it in public. 

“Yeah, I was looking over it while I was getting ready”, Edda replied. “Erena and I were discussing some of the specialization modules. We get a bit of an opportunity our final year to experiment a little. You have any thoughts about which ones you’ll be taking next year?”

Jon shrugged. “I haven’t had enough time to think about it too much. We have a few weeks to submit our choices, so I think I’ll wait and see what work comes across my desk and maybe use some ideas from that to form my choices.”

“No work talk”, said Myranda sternly. She poured red wine from one of the bottles on the table into her now-empty glass. “Anyone up for shots, or do you want to wait until we get to the bar?”

Jon could tell this was going to be a very long night.

-

After dinner they moved along _The Wall_ to _Oakenshield_ , a place that specialized in whiskey. The owners had taken the name literally. All of the benches were made from oak wood, as were the bar and tables. Unlike _Nightfort_ , there were no gothic candles here. Sansa thought that a blessing. With all this wood around it’d go up like a tinderbox.

“How are you holding up? Arra asked Sansa. The two of them had escaped to the bathroom upon arrival. Not all of them had made it along from _Nightfort_ – Robin had begged off pleading a prior family engagement he’d only been able to postpone attendance at, and both Will and Kyle had early starts before returning to Moat Cailin for a short weekend. They’d told Sansa all about it at dinner when she mentioned offhand her brother’s stay at Greywater. 

“Not too bad.” Sansa double checked her make-up in the mirror and touched up her mascara. “I managed to avoid having too much wine with dinner. You?”

“Halfway to a bad hangover”, Arra grinned. “But, it’s my birthday. I figured I might as well make the most of it. I can sleep all weekend if I need to. Thank you for coming. I was a bit apprehensive at the thought of spending my birthday miles from home surrounded by strangers. Myranda is a bit much, and I have suspicions about her motives, but this was pretty great of her.”

Sansa had no doubt those suspicions involved Jon Snow. He’d come round to her end of the table between the main course and dessert on the pretext of double checking some information on Rickon’s birthday, which was about a month away. Sansa knew Jon was well aware of the standard arrangements for a Stark birthday, but had played along anyway. 

Arra linked her arm with Sansa’s. “Come on. Let’s go and see what Myranda’s ordered us from the bar.”

Sansa felt herself grinning as they left the bathroom and went into the bar area. She caught Jon’s eyes quickly and saw relief wash over his face at the sight of her. Myranda had commandeered the seat next to him again and if nothing else, Sansa had to admire her persistence. 

She took a seat on the bench opposite Jon and Myranda and looked for the glass of white wine she’d asked for. 

“Their wine sounded a little off-brand so I ordered you a whiskey cocktail”, Myranda told her. “And I got us some jell-o shots too – daddy’s credit card has its uses. They’re down the table next to Harry.”

Sansa turned her head to see Harry had squeezed himself in between Erena and Edda. She could hear him talking loudly about the bar he frequented in Gulltown. 

“So, you going to make a night of it?” Sansa heard Myranda ask Jon. “There’s a few of us talking about going on to a club later. You up for a bit of dancing? I’m not sure how good the music will be but a few drinks should drown it out. If not, then my place isn’t too far from here, and – “

“I don’t think I’m up for a big night out.” Sansa started to sip away at the cocktail, which she hoped wasn’t _too_ alcoholic and circumspectly sat so she could see and hear what was going on over the other side of the table. 

“Night out, night in. I’m up for pretty much anything”, she heard Myranda reply. “I could show you…..”

Myranda whispered something in Jon’s ear that Sansa couldn’t hear, but turned his neck a little red.

“I don’t think so.” She saw Jon squirm away slightly. “I’m sorry if I gave off the wrong impression, but I’m not – I don’t think we’re really each other’s type.”

Sansa felt for Jon. She could tell he was trying to let Myranda down gently and yet make it clear as possible that he wasn’t interested in her as more than a work colleague. She recalled having to let boys down gently back in school. Back when she’d been the sort of girl that boys asked to school dances and out to Mordane’s on the weekend for coffee and cake. 

Sansa wasn’t sure how much of that girl was left. 

“Well……if that’s how you feel then no harm, no foul. I’m not looking for anything serious. Just a bit of fun.”

“I don’t think I’d be your type of fun.”

Sansa gave up trying to circumspect and looked over at Jon, catching his eye.

“Well…..I’m going to the bar”, Myranda announced. She downed half her cocktail glass in one go and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “My glass is empty.”

“Okay?” Sansa mouthed at Jon when Myranda was out of sight. He nodded. She could see relief in his face again. Jon wasn’t one for making a public production of something. He hated being the centre of attention. Sansa had once thought him a little odd and introverted from it. Now she understood that Jon simply wanted to have a good core of people around him. A small, tight-knit group that he was close to. 

She understood it more than ever now. 

“Are you sure you want to drink that? I didn’t think you liked whiskey.”

“I don’t”, Sansa admitted. “But it would be rude not to, after Myranda bought it for me.”

“I’ll finish it if you want. And then we can go up to the bar and order you something you actually _want_ to drink.” Sansa smiled. That sounded pretty good.

-

When Myranda had come back from the bar and taken a seat at the other end of the table, next to Ronnel and Arra, Jon deemed it safe to go to the bar himself. He wasn’t a hard drinker and so ordered a beer to go with Sansa’s white wine. 

Jon felt a blend of embarrassment and relief about what he’d said to Myranda. During dinner, as her leg had been constantly pressed up against his and her hand had casually slipped to his thigh a time or three, his mind had become determined to grow some guts and speak to her before the night was over. 

What she’d said had been the last straw, a limit beyond which he could no longer play dumb over what she was doing. _“I could show you what it feels like to be with a real woman. I can make you blow your load in all kinds of ways. Besides, I want to see what those pouty lips of yours can do. You can put them on any part of me you want.”_

He thought wryly of how amused Theon and Robb would’ve been at the situation. At least Sam would’ve given him some sympathy. None of them had been here, though, and so it was instead Sansa’s quiet support that Jon had found helpful. She must’ve known he understood the arrangements for Rickon’s birthday. And Jon had never needed to run suggestions for presents by Robb.

“Here you go.” Jon handed Sansa the glass of white wine she’d asked for when they arrived. 

“Thanks. So, what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“I am taking my mother out for lunch, Ghost and I are going for a good long walk, and then probably a quiet night in with whatever movie I’m in the mood for on Netflix. Maybe the new Edric Dayne thriller? I think they just added that the other day. I know you said you’re on Rickon duty tomorrow, but are you still okay for our run on Sunday?”

They’d planned to go for a longer run on Sunday and include the dreaded hill that formed the latter part of the fun race. Jon had usually gone running alone in the past, though Robb or sometimes Tormund would join him for one in White Harbour. It was strange to have a regular running buddy but Jon found himself enjoying it. He liked having someone to help with pacing and to keep him going when he started to feel his legs. 

“Absolutely. I – I’ve really started enjoying running more. I saw a series of videos on youtube about building up stamina and it gave me a few ideas about figuring out routes and maybe splitting our training between long, flat runs and shorter, hilly runs. Does that make sense?”

“It does. Send me the link and I’ll have a look at it. That’s a really good idea, Sansa. We could maybe see if there are any sports websites with training advice. See, Wintertown fun race this year – maybe someday we could manage the White Harbour half or full marathon!” It was the beer talking a little, and the wine he’d had at dinner (Myranda had been faithful in topping up both their glasses), but having someone to train with had made Jon take it a little more seriously. 

“Where are you and Lyanna planning on going for lunch?”

“That pub we went to the other week. It’s dog friendly – in fact they encourage you to bring your dog if you have one – so we can take Ghost and go for a walk before we eat.” His mother loved the steak and ale pies they made and had made Jon promise they would go back soon. With no other plans for the weekend in place and Jon well aware of the toll her night shifts had, he’d suggested lunch. 

He had also hoped to talk to Robb on video chat on Sunday. Both he and Jeyne were also out tonight, to celebrate the sixtieth birthday of one of Jeyne’s uncles. Robb had texted him while they were both getting ready for their nights out, letting him know how much he was dreading it. Jon took out his phone to see if he had a message but none had come through since Sansa’s response that she was ready for the cab.

“Here, look at this.” He passed over his phone and showed her Robb’s messages. He watched as Sansa looked through them and giggled. 

“Poor Robb! He did tell me about this birthday thing. I don’t think he is finding Jeyne’s mother’s side of the family particularly easy to get along with. But, then, I’m not sure how dad feels about Aunt Lysa. There are times at family events I can sense him really holding his tongue.” She lowered her voice at that last part and Jon could tell it wasn’t something she particularly wanted publicized. He wondered if she’d even have said it to him a month ago. They’d got a lot friendlier and trusting in a short period of time.

Jon thought again that it was a shame he and Sansa had taken this long to become friends. 

-

After a couple of rounds of wine and beer, Sansa excused herself to the bathroom and Jon promised to get them another – final – drink while she was away. They both had to drive tomorrow and had decided the switch to water was almost upon them. Sansa knew her parents wouldn’t expect her back until midnight, if indeed they had any expectations on her time of return, but stopping the wine didn’t have to mean stopping enjoyment of the evening. 

The line for the bathroom wasn’t as long as it had been when she and Arra had come in upon their arrival and she was in an out in moments. Sansa was looking towards the bar to see how Jon was getting on (she had to admit to feeling a little guilty that she’d gone out that evening with the intention of getting to know _everyone_ better but since arriving at _Oakenshield_ had talked almost exclusively with Jon) when an arm reached up to the wall and blocked her way. 

Sansa felt more than a little anxiety bubbling up inside her until she realised she knew the owner of the arm – Harry. He’d been flirting with Edda and Erena for the last hour, since they’d arrived at the bar, and Sansa knew the three of them had drunk several times what she and Jon had. 

“Stark”, he breathed. “You know, I really do think you’ve got the legs to pull that dress off. We should go out some evening. Just you and me. Without the others – especially your pouty-lipped pal, Snow. Call off the bodyguard and we could have a real good time.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harry”, Sansa informed him in clipped tones. “And Jon is not my bodyguard. He’s my friend.” He’d had too much to drink. She knew he’d been flirting with her since they’d first met but then Harry flirted with everyone. Perhaps one of the other girls had turned him down for tonight. In any case, he hadn’t gone this far with her before. 

Harry tucked her long, loose hair behind her ear. “You sure? I think it’d be an excellent idea. I’d like to see a little more of those legs of yours. They look like they go on for days. I imagine they can do all sorts of things.”

“No.”

“We could have a lot of fun together.”

Sansa pushed down his arm. “I said no, Harry, and I meant it. I’d say you were lucky my brother Robb is in Lannisport this summer but the one you really have to watch out for is my _sister_. She’s aiming to be a professional fencer. Got lots of swords, has Arya. She trains with a couple of MMA fighters sometimes and they taught me moves last summer in case I ever got mugged in King’s Landing. Continue with your line of thought and you’ll find out just what they taught me. Say nothing further, and I won’t bring this up with Jory or Rodrik on Monday morning.”

“Whoa, there, Princess”, said Harry, lifting up his hands. “That’s going a bit far there. I just wanted to take you out for a drink.”

“And I said _no_. Now, I’m going to re-join our group.”

Sansa walked back to the table, her head held as high as she could. She ignored the trembling in her hands and sat down not opposite Jon as she had previously, but next to him. Arya had taught her all the moves Sansa would ever need. And Harry was harmless, really. He hadn’t intended to _do_ anything to her. But that didn’t mean she was comfortable with his persistence. 

Suddenly, Sansa wanted to be at home in bed, curled up with a good book.

-

“What’s wrong?” Jon could see the moment he caught sight of Sansa walking away from Harry that there was something not right. After ordering his and Sansa’s drinks at the bar, he’d come back to the table, sat down and looked over towards the entrance to the bathrooms to see her talking to Harry. Jon hadn’t liked the look of it but trusted Sansa to make her own judgement call – as she had done on their first day of work. 

With her coming closer, however, Jon could see in her over-bright eyes that something wasn’t quite right. What had Harry said to her?

“Nothing, I – Harry just asked me out, I guess? Propositioned me? I’m not sure of the word. He didn’t lay a finger on me or I would’ve ended him. And then got Arya to do it again. I just…….I didn’t like it, that’s all. The way he put his hand on the wall felt a little like an invasion of my personal space. Which I know sounds ridiculous – “

“Sansa, if he made you feel uncomfortable it is not ridiculous. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

“You aren’t my bodyguard, Jon.”

“I know. I’m your friend, though, and I want to make sure you’re safe. Like I do all my other friends.” She nodded at that, but didn’t say anything. Jon hoped he’d got his point across. It was a good thing Robb wasn’t here. Harry would have a bloody nose, they’d be booted from the bar and it would have been office gossip first thing Monday morning. 

“I think – I think I want to go home now.”

“If you want.” Jon took a quick drink of his beer and stood up. He ushered Sansa over to where Arra was sitting and said they were both leaving. It wasn’t until they were outside that he saw she was gasping for breath a little. 

“I’m sorry”, she apologized through tears. “I’ve ruined your evening.”

“If anyone has ruined my evening it is Harry and Myranda”, Jon told her firmly. 

“It’s so early to be going home and my mother’s going to kick up a stink when she sees me like this. I don’t understand. He didn’t actually do anything beyond telling me he wanted to take me out and get underneath my dress.”

“Entitled asshole”, Jon grimaced. He’d met far too many Harrys in his life. 

He pulled Sansa into a hug and held her until he could feel the shuddering caused by her tears had stopped. Jon wished again that he had seen what was happening soon and intervened. Sansa had got away _herself_ , though, and that was something Jon knew would be important for _her_.

“Thank you”, she whispered. “You’re a good friend, Jon.”

Sansa raised her hand shakily and wiped away her tears, muttering about her messed-up mascara.

“Tell you what, why don’t you come over to mine and watch TV for a bit. We can get some water – I have a great selection of still, sparkling and tap – and you can go home when you are ready to see your parents. Also, I have a dog.”

The mention of Ghost got a smile. “You had me at tap water, Snow.” 

-

Sansa soon found herself curled up on the sofa at Jon and Lyanna’s house with a blanket wrapped around her knees. Jon had handed it to her before heading for the kitchen and their bottled water. For the first time that evening, Sansa felt relaxed and comfortable. 

“Woof!” Ghost bounded over to the sofa and jumped up to sit down next to her. 

“Ghost!” He was quickly followed by Jon. “Be careful with Sansa!”

“He’s fine”, she replied. Sansa curled him into her right side and started giving him a belly rub. Ghost woofed happily and she felt even more relaxed. 

“Here.” Jon handed her a bottle of water and sat down next to her on the sofa. Not too close, though. Sansa looked at him curiously. He seemed to be trying to make up his mind over something. 

“Sansa…..you don’t have to answer this. You can even tell me to go to hell and that it’s none of my business. But – did Joffrey – did he rape you?”

Sansa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “No, he didn’t. You’re my friend, Jon. I trust you. No, he didn’t rape me. He would….grab me some….and he liked to pinch my arms. A lot. They would bruise easily. So would my legs when he did it there. Mostly, though, he would just _say_ things. He never raped me or passed me round his friends like he suggested once when he was showing off……Joff was all bluster. Big talk and little action.”

“I just thought that maybe Harry had triggered something in the bar, that’s all.” His mother had been an ER nurse for over twenty years and Jon had worked part-time at Wintertown General during his under-grad summer breaks. Sansa was sure he’d seen posters all about domestic abuse and the impact on survivors. 

“Maybe he did, somewhere in my sub-conscious. Jon, I – I’m not sure how much Robb has told you. I know my brother. His heart is in the right place but sometimes his mouth engages and – please, anything I say to you – “

“Is in complete confidence. I promise.”

Part of Sansa knew she should’ve gone to the counselling service at KLU, but Joffrey and his family were so well known and Tywin had donated a lot of money. Maybe at WHU she could go to a few sessions and speak to someone. 

Joffrey may never have raped her but that didn’t mean he hadn’t left her with scars. 

Sansa lifted her arms slightly and Jon thankfully got the message, pulling her into a hug. “Can we watch a comedy? Nothing too strenuous – maybe a couple of old episodes of M*A*S*H or something?”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, we can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks again for all the lovely feedback. I am both nervous and excited about this chapter - it includes one of the four plot points that has persisted with me while developing this fic!


	9. A Quiet Weekend

Sansa woke up on Saturday morning feeling more rested than she had expected. She had returned home around midnight to find her father switching off the downstairs lights and unplugging the TV and so on for the night. Sansa had been able to reply honestly to his question of how her night had been that her meal was excellent, she thought Arra had enjoyed the birthday celebrations and she had shared a cab home with Jon. 

Speaking of Jon, the first thing Sansa had done after she closed her bedroom door behind her was text him. She had promised to let him know she’d got home safely in the cab – but even if Jon had not extracted that promise from her, Sansa would have sent him a message anyway to thank him.

She stretched out in bed and yawned widely. The small alarm clock next to her bed advised Sansa it was a little after nine thirty. Rickon had reminded her more than once the day before that they would need to leave around one, so that gave her ample time to shower, dress and enjoy a lazy brunch. 

A shower sounded, at that moment in time, like a gift from the Old Gods to Sansa. 

She gathered her things together and took them into the bathroom she’d shared over the years with Arya – who, thankfully, had spent Friday night at Gendry’s and therefore wasn’t around to beat Sansa to the first shower. 

Sansa turned the shower on and stripped out of her pyjamas. She stepped inside and allowed the warm water to envelop and cleanse her. There was something purifying about taking a bath or a shower and when she’d been with Joffrey, the bathroom had in many ways become Sansa’s sanctuary. Then she could wash away her tears, ease her bruises and sing sweet love songs she hoped would one day become her reality. 

She cast all thoughts of Joff aside. He had no power over her now. Especially not here. In the _North_. In her _home_. Sansa had left that part of her life behind her and she turned her thoughts again to Jon Snow. 

Jon was the antithesis of Joffrey. 

Sansa wondered if he knew how much it meant to her that Jon had not come charging over to her and Harry, but had instead allowed her to extract herself as she had done the first day at work when Harry had trapped her in a monologue posing as conversation. Robb wouldn’t have done that. Robb would have bloodied Harry’s nose. 

For all Sansa had honestly answered her father last night in highlighting the positive aspects of the evening, in truth her favourite part had been watching repeats of M*A*S*H she’d seen dozens of times before. She had laughed out loud with Ghost cuddled in at her side, clearly a fan of her belly rubs, and her head finding its way every so often to Jon’s shoulder. Mindless fun had been just what she needed at that point. 

She pulled out the lemon wash and began to coat herself in it. The wash filled the shower with one of her favourite scents and had Sansa debating whether to stop off at Mordane’s Bakery on the way to Rickon’s gaming event. 

Lemon muffins was an altogether happier focus for her thoughts, Sansa decided. As was the interview at WHU. It was in less than a fortnight now. Perhaps she might find out the same day? Perhaps in two short weeks she would officially no longer be a KLU student?

_That_ would take some beating as the highlight of her summer.

Sansa rinsed off the lemon wash and thought making that particular dream come true would involve some work on her part over the next week or so. She’d have to make herself more acquainted with the WHU programme for years three and four than she was already – and try to expand her knowledge on WHU itself – though that would need to wait until the middle of the week. Sansa had plans with Rickon today and Jon tomorrow, and then Arya had a tournament in Torrhen’s Square on Monday night.

In the meantime, though, Sansa’s stomach began to rumble and her mind turned to breakfast. Breakfast and the pancakes her mother often made at weekends. Sansa quite liked the idea of blueberry pancakes to begin the day. 

-

_The Three Dogs_ was a decent sized pub on the outskirts of Wintertown, and came with the twin attractions of a beer garden and an open invitation for patrons to bring along their dogs. His mother had discovered it quite by accident but Jon had already decided it was a favourite. 

“My limit is one beer. Remind me of that when the sunshine makes me think a second and an afternoon sitting out here would be a good idea”, his mother told him when they found seats in a part of the beer garden that was just starting to catch what would become the afternoon sunshine. She groaned loudly. “I have to work tonight. At least I don’t need to be in until ten.”

“And it’ll be your last night shift for a couple of weeks”, Jon added. 

“Second last. I offered to cover Mollen’s shift tomorrow night.” Jon looked over at his mother and wondered how someone who could so easily see when he was over-extending himself in his studies, could be so blind to her own tendencies in that area. “What? Her son’s third birthday is on Monday and she wanted to be fresh for it.”

“But you do have a few days off after, right?” His mother nodded. “Good.”

Jon leaned over the table to pick a menu out of the holder and squinted in the sunshine to read it. He wondered how Sansa was feeling today. Normally after a night out that would equate to trying to figure out if someone else’s hangover was worse than yours not worrying over your friend being freaked out by a reminder of past trauma. 

Robb had told him a certain amount about Joffrey and Sansa’s relationship. Jon had never met the man but he had learned enough to know they’d never be anything less than sworn enemies. She had seemed lighter and happier in Ghost’s presence while they watched Netflix and brought themselves through the fog of the wine and beer they’d drunk.

They’d gone out late morning and stopped off at a couple of places on their way here. Jon had resisted the temptation to text Sansa before he left the house. As much as he wanted to find out how she was, he also wanted to give her any space she needed. They hadn’t really been close friends for very long and Jon knew he wouldn’t exactly be Sansa’s first port of call in a storm. 

Jon decided to text her later on in the afternoon (he knew she had plans with Rickon) to confirm their arrangements for a run tomorrow. 

“……..going to have? Jon? Earth to Jon?”

“Sorry.” He wondered how long his mother had been trying to get his attention. “I was, uh, trying to figure out what to order.”

If she didn’t believe him, then his mother gave no indication of it. 

“And?”

“I think I’ll just have a burger.” He could justify treating himself. Regardless of whether or not Sansa was up to coming with him, Jon intended to get a good Sunday run in. He’d discovered over the last fortnight that it set him up for the week. “How about you?”

“I don’t want anything too heavy before my shift. I think I will go for the Dornish chicken.”

“You sure you want something that spicy before your shift?” Dornish chicken was usually full of chili peppers. His mother shrugged. 

“It’ll be fine. I’m going to go and order. You want fries with your burger?”

“Sweet potato fries”, Jon replied without thinking about it. He’d really enjoyed them at the diner. His mother snorted loudly. 

“ _Okay_.” While she went inside to order their lunch, Jon bent down and gave Ghost a quick pat. The dog woofed and turned over as he had done more than once that morning. 

“You really liked Sansa’s belly rubs, didn’t you?” Jon murmured as he gave in to Ghost’s demands. “I’m sure you’ll see her again soon.”

Jon’s phone bleeped and he took it out of his pocket, wondering if Sansa had texted him to talk about last night or their plans for a Sunday run. Instead, he found it lit up with the name of another Stark – Robb. 

_Hope your night out was better than mine. Me and Jeyne both have hellish hangovers. I honestly think I might die. Let me know if you have time for a video call later so I can impart my final words of wisdom._

Jon laughed, remembering all both Robb and Jeyne had told him about her mother’s family. Catelyn Stark did _not_ need to be concerned about Robb deciding to up and move to the Westerlands after graduation. 

He bit his lip and, for possibly the first time ever, contemplated precisely what he should say to Robb. Jon had meant what he’d said the night before – anything Sansa told him, she did in complete confidence. He was NOT about to run off and tattle on her to her big brother. Jon was not Robb’s spy and Sansa wasn’t simply _Robb’s little sister_. She was _Jon’s_ _friend_. 

_I was pretty sensible to be honest. Didn’t stay out too late – shared a cab home with Sansa before midnight. Feeling alright today after switching to water relatively early on. Out for a family pub lunch at the moment but you can call any time after four. Hydrate!_

Jon tapped on _Send_ and gave Ghost another belly rub. He felt a bit awkward, withholding from Robb. They had known each other for the best part of twenty years and Jon had never lied to him before. He’d withheld information on the Targaryens, but that wasn’t at all the same thing. Jon had never told Robb an outright lie and he supposed he hadn’t now. He _had_ caught a cab with Sansa and they _had_ both been home before midnight.

So why did he feel like he had lied?

“Here we are.” Jon was happily distracted from his thoughts by the return of his mother, along with their beers. “Barman says the food should be around fifteen minutes or so. You still haven’t told me about your night out. What are the other interns like now that you’ve had a chance to get to know them outside work?”

“I get on well with most of them.” _Except Myranda and Harry and I doubt that will change_. “I got chatting to the two guys from the Neck last night at the meal and they seem pretty sound.”

“ _You_ were _chatting_?”

“What?”

“Jon, sweetheart, I love you more than anyone or anything and even _I_ know you’re not the most sociable of beings. You don’t do small talk.” She had him there. But, then, as he pointed out to her, they were only two people. He did better in small groups. 

“Sansa enjoy it?”

“She loved the meal. I think she’d go back to _Nightfort_ again.” 

“It’s strange. I remember those two girls when they were tiny and if you’d told me even two or three years ago that Sansa would be the single one and Arya all settled down then I would’ve called you on it.”

“Being single isn’t the worst thing in the world. We both manage it pretty great.” He didn’t want a discussion on Sansa and her relationships. 

“Yeah.” His mother gave him one of her forced smiles and Jon decided a change of subject was in order.

“Speaking of Arya, remember I won’t be in on Monday night. She’s got a tournament down in Torrhen’s Square and I promised to drive down after work for it.”

His mother’s smile turned genuine. “Then I will have a night in with a few beers and the new batch of episodes of _Down in Dorne_ that Netflix have just released. We’ll have fun, won’t we, Ghost?”

Ghost woofed. It hadn’t taken him long to understand his new name. It had only been a few short weeks but both he and his mother had quickly adapted to having Ghost in their lives. 

“I might order a pizza rather than cook, if I’m just going to be on my own.”

“How do you still manage to eat like a teenager?” Jon asked her. He thought of all the people he knew who obsessed over their calorie intake and the type of food they consumed, and how many hours they’d spent at the gym to off-set each treat. His mother, on the other hand, seldom set foot in a gym and ate whatever she liked. 

“My fabulous genes, I think. Ah, it’ll catch up with me some day or other. You’ll pick up some dinner for yourself in Torrhen’s Square?” Jon nodded. “I know, I know. You’re a grown man now and I should stop fussing so much.”

“I think I can manage a little fussing. And yeah, I’ll pick something up.”

“Is this a big tournament for Arya?”

“I don’t think so.” Jon tried to recall everything she’d told him about it. “I think she wants to keep her hand in over the summer more than anything. And the Wintertown U coach will be there. He runs this tournament and Arya thought it’d be a good idea to go down for it.”

While others may have seen it as an opportunity to get on the right side of their new coach, Jon knew Arya saw it as an opportunity to prove herself to her new coach. 

“Dornish chicken?” Jon looked up to see the gruff, scarred man he recalled from their last visit. Their food had arrived. 

-

“There’s meant to be new features on it and the company that makes the games hired a new graphics guy”, Rickon told her, not for the first time, as they waited at a set of lights around the corner from the launch venue. Sansa certainly felt she knew all there was to know about _Auto Chase: Oldtown Edition_. 

She didn’t have the heart to tell Rickon she was as intererested in computer games as he was in reading her lit crit books. Not when he was so excited about this event. Sansa had seen far too little of her youngest brother in the last couple of years and he seemed to grow half a foot every time she came home. 

“If your interest in fast cars goes beyond this computer game, you could hang out with Gendry and find out more about how they work”, Sansa suggested as the lights changed. She moved off and flipped the indicator. 

“Gendry’s shown me lots. Arya sometimes takes me round to the garage after school and he lets me work on some of the cars. I like bikes too. Arya isn’t going to let me borrow her quad bike again though, is she?” 

“You _did_ take it out for a joyride and cause a lot of damage”, Sansa pointed out. “You’ll need to prove to Arya that you’re responsible. She takes her bike very seriously. It took her forever to get permission for it.”

“I guess. Everyone always treats me like a kid, though.”

“It’s because you’re the youngest. Robb and I had to fight a lot for some of the freedoms we had – ones you and Arya and Bran sometimes take for granted.” Sansa thought it best not to remind Rickon that as a fourteen year old, he pretty much _was_ still a kid. Albeit a very tall one. 

Sansa parked her mother’s car in an empty space near the entrance to the car park. 

“I guess. Do you want to play _Auto Chase_ with me some this weekend? We could reset it after so your dodgy score doesn’t ruin my average.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” Sansa smiled as she turned off the engine. She could spare a few hours to allow Rickon to annihilate her. There had been a time when the rest of them played computer games and Sansa simply read a book or a fashion magazine or gossiped with her friends over the phone. It was sweet of Rickon to include her now.

The walked inside the venue, which Sansa immediately saw had been decorated for the launch. She knew from Rickon that there were similar events taking place throughout Westeros that afternoon. The computer game company clearly had A LOT of money to invest on promoting this game. There were stalls with merchandise, a wall with holograms of fast cars and an actual Balerion 500 supercar.

“This is immense!” Rickon told her, his excitement clear. He eyed the merchandise stall and Sansa could see where this was going. “You know how I’m your favourite brother – “

“Not the entire stall and we stop at Mordane’s for lemon cakes on the way home”, Sansa negotiated, knowing Rickon would want to spend as much of the weekend on his new game as possible. 

“Deal.” Sansa decided this could work out in her favour. It was only a few weeks until Rickon’s fifteenth birthday and she’d yet to pick out a gift. While Rickon was otherwise occupied, she could get him something else from the merchandise stall. 

Sansa wondered what Jon would get Rickon for his birthday. They’d discussed fake ideas to give him an excuse to escape Myranda at dinner, but Sansa knew he didn’t need her help. He’d most likely be at the dog pub with Lyanna for lunch now. Maybe one weekend she could meet Jon and Ghost for lunch there. 

“Sansa? Are you coming?” 

“Sure.”

-

When a tired and full Jon returned home it was to a bright envelope with beautiful calligraphy. He lifted it up from the floor before Ghost could slobber all over it and noted the White Harbour postmark it bore. 

“You’ve taken up with fancy folks in White Harbour by the looks of it”, his mother jested.

“Really, really not the case”, Jon replied, thinking of nights out at _The Wolf’s Den_ and others at some of the rougher bars that Tormund occasionally dragged him along to. He opened the envelope to find an invitation. 

**_You are invited to celebrate the engagement of Samwell Tarly and Gilly Caster_ **

It went on to give more information about the party, due to take place around a fortnight before Jon was due back at White Harbour for the new semester, and extended the invite to a plus one – if Jon had someone he wanted to bring.

“Sam mentioned something about an engagement party the last time I spoke to him, but they hadn’t decided on a date or anything”, Jon murmured, handing his mother the invitation. The invitation reminded Jon that he hadn’t spoken to Sam since his internship had started. He owed his good friend a call. “I’ll call him tomorrow to accept. Sam’s been working Wednesday to Saturday at a summer school in White Harbour before he starts his teaching job next month.”

“You going to take anyone? It says guest plus one.”

“You angling for an invite to the party?” Jon grinned. He knew she wasn’t serious. “Nah, I’ll go on my own. Robb will take Jeyne, but Tormund and the rest of the guys won’t bother.”

Jon had always hated the idea of almost blind dates for events just to have a plus one. He remembered school dances and the horror everyone seemed to feel at the idea of being the only dateless person there. Well, he was determined not to be in that position again. 

“Come on, Ghost.” He walked up the stairs, Ghost at his heels, and stowed the invitation away safely in the desk he’d had in his bedroom since his mid-teens. Jon then pulled out his phone and typed out a text message. It took a lot of editing before he was happy enough to hit _Send_. Jon also preceded it with a picture of Ghost.

_Wanted to check in with you. Hope you survived the gaming event with Rickon. Are you still up for our run tomorrow? PS – Ghost misses your belly rubs._

Short. Concerned but not in an overbearing way. And hopefully the picture of Ghost would, at the very least, put a smile on Sansa’s face. 

Jon looked around the room and tidied up the legal books on his shelf. He’d been looking through a few things on Thursday night for a case he was helping Mormont with. It only took a couple of moments for his phone to buzz.

_Am surrounded by hyperactive teenage boys – some of whom are dressed as characters from the game series – but Rickon seems to be enjoying himself and I’ve managed to pick up his birthday present. I’ve even persuaded him to let us stop at Mordane’s on the way home. Definitely still on for our run tomorrow – am looking forward to it._

Sansa had ended her text with a smiley face emoji that brought about a similar reaction on Jon’s own face. He was relieved she seemed to be doing alright. Before Jon could decide whether or not to send a response, his phone buzzed again.

_These costumes are actually really good – one guy around Arya’s age is actually here dressed as one of the fast cars in the series. I’m currently reviewing my already high level of respect for cosplayers. That must have taken him days to put together. They’re just starting some sort of presentation and it may be judgemental of me, but I doubt the guy giving it has played many computer games. Even I know more gaming slang than he does, thanks to Rickon. He’s just given a summary of his powerpoint. We’ll be here for_ hours _._

Jon chuckled and decided he would send a response. 

_Think of the lemon cakes._

Sansa’s witty running commentary of the event lasted for over an hour and was so vivid that Jon almost felt as if he were in the room with her and Rickon. He hoped it meant that Sansa wouldn’t be set-back long term by what had happened the night before. Jon didn’t think he’d been more relieved than when Sansa had said Joffrey hadn’t raped her – though it hadn’t lasted for long. Whether physical or emotional or mental, abuse was still abuse. 

Sansa was so, so much better than Harry. 

Jon had just had her final text of the afternoon – _Finally time for lemon cakes! See you at two tomorrow for our run_ – when Robb called him on video chat.

“Do you remember that weekend blowout before we finished at Wintertown High? And the three day hangover after it? This is _worse_ than that”, Robb’s gruff voice told him without any preamble. 

“Rough night?”

“I would laugh but that’d hurt my head.”

Ghost woofed and made his presence known next to Jon on the bed. Jon grinned and moved his phone to bring Ghost into the shot. The pup’s tail was wagging happily and he woofed again at Robb. 

“So that’s the little ball of fluff. Enjoying parenthood?”

Jon snorted. “This is not parenthood. This is me fulfilling a long held wish and being happy that my mother will have company while I’m in White Harbour. He’s a good boy, aren’t you, Ghost?”

Jon scratched behind Ghost’s ears and the dog made soft sounds of contentment, before turning over for another belly rub. Jon acquiesced. “Not mine you want though, is it? You want Sansa’s belly rubs.”

“He likes Sansa’s belly rubs.”

“Yeah. She seems to like the daft little mutt. Always asking me for pictures and since she gave him a belly rub, he’s been requesting them from everyone.”

Okay, Ghost had asked the two people he lived with for them since Sansa had given him belly rubs the night before, but Robb perhaps didn’t need to know that part. It would lead to too many questions Jon was uncomfortable answering. 

“Sansa loves animals, always has.” Robb groaned again. “I’ve good another half hour before I can take more painkillers and my stomach refuses to let me keep anything down.”

“Thanks for the mental image.”

“I would’ve called you tomorrow, but we have to go to lunch with Jeyne’s parents. I like her dad. He seems to be the only genetic reason she’s a well-adjusted human being.”

Jeyne had told him before what her family could be like. Jon had never known her to exaggerate or downright lie, but it seemed that she was true to her word on this score. 

“How much did the two of you have to drink?”

“Well, it was a fancy party with a free bar. And one side of Jeyne’s family congratulating themselves on being rich. Oh, and they all got to ask me how I planned to become rich and how many billable hours my father’s firm filed last year. Then some of them brought up the website on their phones and they explained to me how it could be improved to make us more money.”

“So you dealt with it like a grown man. By getting drunk.”

“Yes. And drinking kept my mouth busy, which meant I wasn’t talking, and by talking I mean arguing with Jeyne’s hyper-critical mother who doesn’t seem to see how amazing and smart and wonderful her eldest daughter is.”

“How is Jeyne?” Jon couldn’t hear her in the background the way he’d been able to the times he’d spoken to Robb on the phone while they’d been away. 

“Asleep. I wish I was asleep. Enough about my night – how was yours? You shared a cab with Sansa? Thanks for making sure she got home okay.” Jon rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Sansa’s a grown woman who normally lives at the other end of Westeros. She’d be plenty capable of taking a cab home by herself. Mostly I wanted an excuse to leave too. One of the other interns was getting a bit _handsy_ and I had to tell her it wasn’t going to happen.”

Robb laughed at that. “Ouch. My poor head. You need to tell me the story in full when I’m able to laugh at it properly.”

“It wasn’t funny. This is why partying with people you work with isn’t always the best idea in the world. Could be worse, though. I could have a hangover as bad as yours.”

“Yeah. You’re enjoying the work side of things, though?”

“I am”, Jon nodded. “The work is hard but so, so completely worth it. I’m hoping to go to court with Mormont next week or the week after. How about you?”

“Farman’s is _not_ my dad’s”, Robb groaned. “Aside from the strange laws they have south of the Neck, the partner I’m assigned to has zero interest in teaching me anything. I thought the first week was just an induction sort of thing, but it was the same this week. I read law book after law book and make summaries, answer his phone and check his briefs for typos. I’m hoping it’ll be different next week – his secretary will be back from her holidays.”

Jon knew that Robb’s experience was common – it was large part of why the places at Ned’s firm were so highly coveted. He counted himself very lucky to have won one of them. 

“You’re going for a run with Sansa tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I am”, replied Jon. He knew Sansa and Robb texted each other almost daily. Of course Robb would know that they’d become running buddies. 

“I never knew she was so into running.”

“She says it’s good for clearing her head. I’ve always liked it for the same reason. And there’s more – it’s easier to run here because there’s more green spaces and less traffic. She tell you we’re training for the fun race? Registration is open in a few days and I think we’ll both enter the 10k.”

“And Sansa at work – there’s nobody……none of them are giving her any hassle or anything? Nobody trying to act big with her because she’s the boss’s daughter? She doesn’t have anyone bothering her at lunch?”

Jon coughed. “Well, I’ve sort of become her lunch buddy. It’s been good. I’ve been friends with Arya for years, it’s been great to get to know Sansa better too.”

Jon hoped that was a good enough answer for Robb and it seemed to be when the conversation moved on to Sam and Gilly’s engagement party, which Robb said he hoped to fly up to White Harbour for the weekend to attend. 

If Sansa wanted to tell her brother anything about Harry’s advances then she was welcome to, but Jon had meant what he’d told her the night before. Sansa was his _friend_. And Jon kept promises he made to his friends. 

-

Her weekend may have got off to a very bad start on Friday night but when she got ready for her run on Sunday, Sansa reflected that since the moment she got in the cab outside _Oakenshield_ it had all been pretty great. She’d enjoyed hanging out with Jon and Ghost, watching old episodes of M*A*S*H, taking Rickon to his gaming event and then spending the rest of the evening slowly improving at it.

Rickon had been surprised at her swift improvement and Sansa had tried her best not to be insulted at that. She’d even sprung for pizza for the two of them for dinner so they could continue with their marathon in the basement den. 

And now, she was half an hour away from her Sunday run with Jon. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail and turned her attention to the reason she was ready so early – Robb. Sansa typed her laptop password in and clicked on the Skype icon. 

“Hello, big brother!” Sansa grinned when she saw Robb’s face appear on the screen, at first a little fuzzy and then clear and bright. He looked rough, there was no way around that, but Sansa kept her lips sealed on that point.

“Hey, Sans. How are you? You’re looking very sporty. That you dressed for your run with Jon?”

“It is.” Sansa wondered how Robb felt about her becoming friends with his best friend. She wondered how he’d react if she told him about Harry, and that she’d asked Jon not to say anything to him about it. “He’ll be here around two. We’re concentrating on endurance today, so a long slow run. We’ve got a good route planned into Wolfswood Park. What are you and Jeyne doing today?”

“We were supposed to be going to a family lunch but Jeyne called to cancel. She told her mother over the phone that we ate some dodgy shellfish when we were out at some fancy restaurant for dinner last night – and if anyone there asks that is most definitely true – but to be honest, little sister, we’re still feeling a bit rough.”

Sansa giggled. “Tell me you’re not still hungover from Friday? I didn’t think hangovers could last that long.”

“Go on thinking it. Jeyne doesn’t drink that much anyway and then I was talking to Theon last night and he said on the Islands they get drunk to avoid hangovers. Jeyne didn’t go along with it, but I did have a few last night.”

“And then spewed all over the bathroom again?”

“Guilty. So, tell me about your week. You were out Friday night?”

“Yes. It was – the restaurant was good.”

“And the entertainment? Jon told me – though not in detail. My head hurt too much for that.” Sansa’s heart skipped a little. Jon wouldn’t have told Robb anything after she asked him not to, would he? A huge part of her felt stupid for even thinking it, but….

“What….” Sansa coughed. “What did he tell you?”

“About the girl he had trouble turning down? Is she a friend of yours? Jon’s always been bad. Either he insults them or he lets them think there’s a chance of something when there isn’t because he’s too polite. Theon would’ve had a ball watching it. He laughed loud enough when I told him.”

“Myranda is Royce’s daughter, from the Vale? Nestor, not Yohn. I guess she’s sort of a friend.” Though Myranda wouldn’t be if she was anything but apologetic to Jon. Sansa knew where her loyalties lay there. “We chat a bit.”

Sansa felt guilty for the small, tiny doubt she’d had in her mind about Jon. It wouldn’t recur. But it was what came of the last year and a bit in King’s Landing. _Twelve days_. 

“Arya ready for the tournament tomorrow? Could one of you text me when she wins so I know when to congratulate her?” Sansa nodded. She was looking forward to the event. Her father would drive them straight from the office, so she’d need to take something to work to change into. 

“She’s ready. Having her rest day. She and Gendry are sitting outside in the sun arguing over which is the best Marvel movie.”

“Definitely one of the Thor ones”, came Jeyne’s voice. She sighed. “Between Thor and Loki…..”

“Hey, Jeyne. I take it you’re feeling better than that stupid oaf?”

“Hey!”

“I am. Though, I have to admit, he is both a very cute and very helpful oaf. He gave me an excuse to get out of lunch with my mother. She wasn’t too happy when Robb was cross-examined by her family and found to not be as rich as she’d made him out to be.”

“We miss the North”, Robb told her. Sansa watched as he grabbed Jeyne’s hand and pulled her into his lap. 

“No.” Jeyne pulled away when Robb moved in to kiss her. “Not until you’ve been vomit free for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Good policy”, commented Sansa. 

“You’re both ganging up on me”, Robb pouted. 

Sansa chatted away with the two of them about their respective plans for the following weekend and before she knew it, it was almost time for Jon to arrive and they had to call a halt to their call. 

“Speak to you soon. Drink lots of fluids. Hydrate. And eat something that won’t make you vomit. Also, never taken hangover advice from Theon again. Love you”, she told Robb.

“Same to you. Enjoy your run.”

Sansa closed the laptop down and went downstairs. She pulled the water bottle she took running out of the fridge, having put it in there to cool just after breakfast. A glance at the clock told her Jon should only be a few moments. Looking out the kitchen window to the back lawn, Sansa saw Arya and Gendry laid out on sunbeds next to the gym. 

“You look like you’re both having a well-earned day of doing nothing”, Sansa told them with a smile. Gendry worked his ass off in a garage while learning what he needed to in the hope of one day opening his own and Sansa knew nobody more knowledgeable about cars and engines than Gendry. He treated Arya as both an equal and the princess she didn’t want to be and Sansa loved him for it. 

“Can’t pull a muscle today”, Arya muttered. “Otherwise I think I’d join you and Jon. It seems a good day for a run. Speed or endurance?”

“Endurance.” Sansa had spoken to Arya about the different training methods and so on that she’d read about online. 

Arya turned to Gendry. “You want to grab us another couple of waters? It’s getting pretty warm out here.”

“Sure.” Arya waited until Gendry walked away and was out of earshot before speaking again. 

“I dropped a few things off at the training centre last night, on my way back over to Gendry’s, and I ran into Robin Flint.” Sansa groaned internally. If Arya had sent Gendry away then this wasn’t going to be a happy conversation. “He said you and Jon left pretty early Friday night, yet dad said you were home when he was locking up. Care to share?”

“There was – there was a guy at the bar who got a little friendly. He didn’t touch me, just made me more than a little uncomfortable.” Sansa decided it best for her not to name and shame Harry – not when he was related to Uncle Jon and Robin. “I wanted out of there so Jon took me over to his and we watched Netflix for a while, and drank some water. Ghost is really cute. He likes belly rubs.”

“Jon got you out?” Arya’s teasing tone was gone.

“I got myself out. Jon looked out for me after.”

“I’m proud of you. Did you kick him in the balls?”

“All I did was tell him _no_. More than once. And then I walked over to Jon. He’d been at the bar getting us more drinks.”

Arya stood up and walked over to her. Of all the family, only Robb and Arya knew what she’d suffered through with Joffrey. Neither of them knew of the consequences, the aftermath, but they knew the sort of things he’d said to her. They knew he’d grabbed and pinched her. Arya had wanted to get one of her fencing swords out. _Let me stick him with the pointy end._ But Sansa hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction of being able to press charges against her sister, any more than she’d wanted Robb anywhere near him. It would’ve ended in a broken nose and – again – criminal charges. 

Gendry came back from the kitchen and into the sunlight, and Sansa saw immediately that he wasn’t alone – Jon was with him. The sight of her new friend brought a broad smile to Sansa’s face. She pushed down the feeling of guilt over her momentary doubt and greeted him. 

“You ready to go?” Jon asked her. “We’ve a good, long route to work through.”

They bade their farewells to Arya and Gendry and went round the front of the house, stopped only by her mother asking Jon to stay for dinner after their return. Sansa made a point of doing a few stretches to iron out the lemon cakes and pizza she’d had the day before.

Before they set off, Sansa put her hand around Jon’s arm. “I want to say thank you – for the other night?”

“I didn’t do anything”, Jon replied.

“You did”, Sansa insisted. “You didn’t come rushing in. You allowed me to get the confidence I needed in saving myself. And you listened when I talked. You heard me. And when Robb asked about your night out, you let him make fun of you rather than betray my confidence. Thank you for being there for me.”

Jon shrugged. “You're my friend, Sansa. I made you a promise.”

“And you kept it. You’re a good friend, Jon. I’m only sorry that it’s taken us this long to become friends. Promise me we’ll stay friends after the summer?”

“I think I can do that”, Jon grinned. 

Sansa smiled broader than ever and bent down to pull up her running socks. This was going to be a good day, and a good run. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a quiet one here, but I cannot WAIT to write the next chapter! :)


	10. A Friend in Me

Jon felt that he was spending most of Monday playing catch-up. Mormont had a very busy week planned and Jon found the pile of work he had to do grow higher and higher. He’d made plans with Sansa to go to Gage’s for lunch but by mid-morning it was clear that a sandwich at his desk would be all he’d have time for. Staying late was not an option as Jon had promised to travel straight from work to Torrhen’s Square for Arya’s fencing event.

Sighing at the research he had to go through on Northern Estate Law, Jon decided it was time for a cup of coffee – his third of the day, which if nothing else was a sign of how intense his day had already become. He stopped by Sansa’s desk on the way to the break room to change their lunch plans. He didn’t like letting a friend down once they’d made concrete plans together.

“Jon, its fine”, she told him when he admitted he wouldn’t have time for a proper lunch. “Well, obviously it isn’t fine that you won’t be getting a proper break, but we can go to Gage’s tomorrow or Wednesday. And I want to leave on time as much as you do, so why don’t we get something from Mordane’s to go? Or, if the queue is too long there, we could get the sandwich meal deal at the grocery store.”

“That sounds great. I think we should lean towards Mordane’s.” He knew she’d been looking forward to going to Gage’s again and if they couldn’t have that then Mordane’s and lemon cakes would be a pretty good substitute. “Anyways, I should get on with my coffee run. Come by my desk when you’re ready to go for lunch.”

Jon walked on to the break room and was pleasantly surprised to find it empty. As much as Jon loved working for Ned’s busy, bustling firm, he also valued peace and quiet and he only managed to find odd, snatched moments of it here and there. A great contrast, he mused while waiting for the kettle to boil, to the massive library he usually studied in at White Harbour. The librarian Theomore was a stickler for a quiet atmosphere. Food was banned and squeaky chairs quickly oiled.

“Good, you’re alone.” Jon turned round nervously to see Myranda standing in the door way. 

He’d managed to avoid Myranda and the awkwardness that would surround any encounter with her since arriving at work. Myranda raised a hand. “Don’t worry, I come in peace. As a matter of fact, I think I owe you an apology. I was pretty forward. Also drunk, which I know is not an excuse, but it does tend to make me a bit more handsy than normal.”

“I think it best if we pretend it never happened. We need to work together over the next couple of months. If we stay professional then I think that would be the best way forward.” Jon didn’t want trouble and he knew that Friday night aside, Sansa got on alright with Myranda for the most part.

Myranda nodded. “I think if the roles were reversed and a man came on to a woman as touchy feely as I was with you, then it would be a lot different. So, yeah, I’m sorry for what happened. You’re hot and smart and I was looking for some fun. But, I think you were right – maybe we’re not the most compatible people in the world. I’m not quite sure we’re looking for the same things.”

“You seem pretty cool. I’m sure you’ll find someone.” Jon heard the click on the kettle that indicated it had boiled and poured his cup of black. “I should be getting back – big pile of work to get through for Mormont. I’ll catch you later.”

Jon took the steaming hot cup back to his desk and the files and books and notepads that covered it. He was profoundly grateful that Myranda had cleared the air with him in a non-awkward way. That encounter had the potential to go so, so badly.

At least now they could move forward and hopefully pretend it had never happened. He tried not to get bogged down in thoughts surrounding his belief that if he’d been clearer over the last week or so that he wasn’t interested, then maybe Myranda wouldn’t have come on so strong Friday night.

Friday night in his mind, Jon glanced along the cluster of desks assigned to the legal interns to see Harry once again checking something on his phone. Harry seemed to spend a lot more time on his phone than taking notes or reading up on files. Jon wondered, not for the first time, if Harry had asked one of his frat brothers – one of his _smarter_ frat brothers – to write the application essay for him. 

Jon wondered if he was being a tad unkind – after all, he didn’t really know Harry well enough to judge on his intelligence – but remembered, at the very least, that Harry was both lazy and had overstepped the mark with Sansa. He couldn’t see Harry apologizing the way Myranda had. Harry probably had spent his weekend with the mistaken assumption that Sansa had over-reacted and he had done nothing wrong. 

In any case, musing about Harry Hardyng wasn’t going to get his work done. Jon opened his book to a fresh chapter and began taking notes on precedent.

-

“Thanks again for the ride”, Sansa told him as she clicked her seat belt into place. 

“I was heading there anyway. You’re not taking me out of my way. It’ll be fun. Like a mini road trip or something. I haven’t been on one of them in ages.” Ned had been held up at a meeting away from the office and would be late to take Sansa to Arya’s event, so Jon had offered to take her instead. He had checked the time before leaving and figured while they would certainly not make the start of the event, at least they’d be there for most of it.

It had been a very long day and while there was part of him that wanted to simply go home, take Ghost for a short walk and then shower and sleep, Jon had promised Arya he would come down to Torrhen’s Square. 

“We should stop somewhere for coffee and something to eat. Just a drive-thru”, Jon suggested. Food and caffeine would keep him going. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the space he’d picked out early that morning. “There must be a bunch of them between here and Torrhen’s Square.”

“How about the chicken place? _Awake at Swyft’s?_ ” said Sansa. “I love their corn.”

“Chicken sounds good”, Jon agreed. “There’s one on the main road to Torrhen’s Square. We won’t need to come off onto one of the lay-bys that are actually miles away. Do – did Robb ever tell you about the music festival we went to with Theon?”

“The one at Sea Dragon Point? Is this the one where you and Robb came back sick? Arya thought you’d both had too much to drink.” Jon snorted. 

“Too much to drink. Lesson learned, though – never go on a trip that Theon has organized himself. Anyways, there was this diner he’d read about online that we just _had_ to stop off at on the way there. Theon went on and on about the ‘ _to die for’_ burgers they served at this place. There was a band playing on the first day that Robb and I were desperate to see. Nobody big, just a Northern band that was starting out and played the kind of music we like. Theon promised we’d still make it, even with starting out late, only – “

“Only the diner that was _just_ off the road was actually _way_ off?” Sansa finished. 

Jon turned and grinned at her. “Pretty much. Then we got lost on the way back to the main road because Robb’s navigational skills are non-existent – as were proper road signs – and there was no signal so we couldn’t search for directions on our phones. It was a good diner, though. Theon was right about that.”

“Chicken sounds amazing about now”, Sansa told him. They’d had an early lunch – pre-filled baguettes from Mordane’s along with lemon cake (Sansa) and a chocolate fudge brownie (Jon) – and it seemed like days ago, never mind the almost six hours it had really been. 

“Maybe talking about food isn’t the best idea in the world. It’ll just make us hungrier”, Jon decided as said hunger made its presence known through a large rumble that came from the bottom of his stomach. “Do you want to put some music on?”

“Not really.” Sansa looked through the CDs in his glove compartment anyway as they pulled onto the highway. It was a Monday and during the summer holidays. Jon hoped that meant the traffic wouldn’t be too bad. Fewer commuters. 

“Is it weird that your favourite football team and a band you listen to have the same name?”

Jon had never thought about it that way before. He supposed it was a little strange, but then the band were from the North and had most likely taken their name from the sports team. Jon pointed that out to Sansa. 

“Still, though, what if someone asked you if you wanted to go and see the _Direwolves_ play? Would you expect to be going to a music gig or a football match?”

“I would ask.” Sansa laughed. “What?! It’d most likely be obvious given the context of the conversation, but if it wasn’t then I’d ask. Do you ever go to see bands play down in King’s Landing with your friends?”

“I spend a lot of time in the library.” Her voice changed then, and it wasn’t the teasing, witty Sansa he had come to know over the last few weeks. It was quieter and withdrawn a little. Jon didn’t know what he’d said. Had Joffrey ruined a band or venue for her? Or did she think he was implying that she spent too much time partying rather than studying?

“I like the library in White Harbour”, Jon told her, making sure he kept his tone as quiet as possible. Just in case. “Our floor is near the top. You get great views out onto the harbour. Makes a difference at eleven at night when you’ve spent the entire day studying for a paper or an exam.”

Jon felt it brought him back to reality and reminded him of the natural beauty of the North but he thought that would sound a bit pretentious if he said it aloud.

“It sounds great. The lit floor at KLU is the third one up. It doesn’t have a good view. Unless you count the really badly designed politics building named for Otto Hightower. And I most certainly do _not_ count it. Oh, I texted Rickon before we left and told him to save us good seats. He’s good at scaring people off. How far in do you think they’ll be when we get there?”

“Depends”, Jon shrugged. “If the last few times I’ve seen Arya can be used as any sort of guide then it doesn’t matter. She’ll be there until the end.”

“There’s a sign for _Swyft’s!_ ” Sansa exclaimed suddenly, and Jon had to cross a couple of lanes quickly to get to the drive-thru. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I’m as hungry as you are.” At least if her mind was back on food it was hopefully off Joffrey. When they’d gone for their Sunday run it had seemed like Sansa was alright. He hated to think he might have said something that had set her back again. Or maybe he had inadvertently brought up something else Sansa didn’t want to think about.

Jon pulled up to the order window. “What do you want?”

“Six marinated strips with the sweet potato fries and a water to drink. And a side of corn.”

Jon repeated Sansa’s order and got some strips for himself, along with a black coffee. 

“Don’t you want to try some of the corn?” Sansa asked. Jon shook his head and reminded her that he needed to eat and drive at the same time. “Thanks again for driving me down.”

“I was going myself”, Jon repeated with a shrug.

-

Sansa watched with delight as Arya was presented with a trophy for winning the tournament. She clapped her sister loudly and wished, not for the first time, that she actually understood the rules of fencing. At first Sansa had thought the sport a phase for her sister, then she’d ignored it because she had little interest in sport herself, and then it had become too late. Sansa had spent years supporting her sister in competition and it would be mortally embarrassing now to ask someone precisely what the rules were.

“That’s our girl”, Gendry murmured next to her, before whistling loudly. Sansa could see his pride in Arya evident on his face. It was getting easier to see that now. After her break-up with Joffrey it had been so hard for her to see Arya happy. That had resulted in a good dose of the guilts, though as Sansa still reminded herself it had been hard for her to see ANYONE happy. 

“Which one is the Wintertown U coach?” Sansa asked Gendry. 

“That guy down there”, he replied, pointing down at an older bald man. The man walked over to Arya and introduced himself. Sansa could see now that Winterfell U was emblazoned on his hoodie. 

“Maybe I should take up fencing”, Sansa heard Rickon say to Jon. “All those swordy things.”

“I think you’re better off in the car department, bud”, Jon replied. Sansa hoped Rickon didn’t go in that direction. Her youngest brother had a wonderful heart but could still be wild as a wolf at times. The thought of him with even one of the swords Arya used in hand sent shivers down Sansa’s spine. 

“We should go down and see her now.” Sansa felt her mother’s gentle hand on the small of her back. She gathered her things together, tucking the cardigan she’d brought into her large office-style bag, and followed everyone else down to the staging area where Arya was still talking to her new coach. 

It had not been a big meet, nor had it drawn a large crowd, but then the venue was not a large one. With the presentation over, it was gradually empting as everyone apart from the winners and their supporters and the staff headed for the exits. 

Music blared through the speakers and it brought Sansa’s mind back to the drive down and Jon’s innocent comment about going to see bands in King’s Landing with her friends. Even when she had friends that had never happened. 

Sansa focused on the positive thought that maybe when she was back studying in the _North_ , she might go and see a _Northern_ band with her _Northern_ friends. 

“Good win, Stark.” Jon walked up to Arya first and enveloped her in a huge hug. “Big congratulations. I took some pictures – I’ll copy Robb in on them when I send them to you, if you want.”

“That’d be great”, Arya grinned. “Everyone, this is Coach Forel. He’s stuck with me for the next four years.”

Sansa noted the gleam in her sister’s eye. She’d scored big points with her coach tonight before even starting her course. While her parents introduced themselves to Coach Forel, Sansa heard Jon say goodnight to Arya. She wasn’t surprised. He’d had a long day and it hadn’t taken a detective to see how coffee Jon had been drinking. 

“Good night to you too”, Jon told her when he left Arya. “I’m going to shoot off and get home. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“I’ll be the one with the Mordane’s cup”, she replied with a smile. She always seemed to go there before work now. 

“I’ll be the one with the bags under my eyes and a coffee IV to set me up for the rest of the week, I think. See you tomorrow.”

“Night, Jon.” 

Sansa turned and watched as he walked out of the arena. It was almost empty now. Sansa hoped they would be leaving soon. Like Jon, she was tired. The idea of a glass of white wine and a couple of episodes of something on Netflix really appealed to her. When he disappeared out of sight, Sansa redirected her attention to her sister and brought her into a hug as Jon had. 

“Great performance. Your mystery rival still MIA, I see.”

Arya snorted. “Not much of a rival.”

“I thought she was your nemesis”, interjected Gendry. He towered over Arya but Sansa saw her sister lean back into him like a comfort blanket. 

“Oh, I think we’ve proved she doesn’t have the guts to be my nemesis.”

“You coming back with us or your folks and Rickon?” Gendry asked her. 

“Are you going straight home or stopping for food?”

“Food, duh.” She should have known. Post-competition Arya quite often had a monstrous appetite. 

“Then I’m going with them.”

-

“Burley’s lawyers will claim that as the grandson through the eldest child, he has the best claim on Grandma Knott’s estate”, said Mormont. “What have you managed to uncover in your reading, Snow?”

“I spent most of yesterday morning looking through case histories and legislation to put together a legal challenge”, Jon replied. He couldn’t believe it was only yesterday. His Monday had been so busy that he felt he’d crammed several days into one. 

“And?”

“Very few families now have the money to leave a small or large fortune behind. And then with inheritance taxes and so on, it becomes risky for those who do, and so many gifts are granted before death. Deeds transferred into the name of one or more of the children, houses sold and the profits used to buy the seller a much smaller property and provide grandchildren with money for education or a house deposit. Although Northern habits have changed, our laws have not. Legally, the Northern position is antiquated – there is no other way of putting it – “

“Well, I’d say there is, but you’re on the right track, Snow”, Mormont told him, emitting a rumbling chuckle at the same time. 

“Legally, if there is no will then the money, property, stocks, all of it, goes to the closest male heir. If there are two grandsons, as is the case here, then Northern Law stipulates the only instance in which it would not go to the son of the eldest child is if that eldest child was female.” _It is sexist and reminiscent of the period in which Westeros was unified. Of that, Jon was certain._

“And what precedents are there for Burley’s legal team to challenge us on?”

Jon looked through his notes. He wanted to be as accurate as possible. “Blackmyre v Fenn. The judge found for the daughter rather than the son. The circumstances were very different, as although Fenn had been raised as his father’s son, the blood tests showed they were not biologically related. Blackmyre had suspected he was her half-brother – as did other family members – but it had never been openly discussed in the family. The judge found for the daughter through blood relation. Still, Burley’s team can argue that Fenn never disputed paternity and the absence of written testament indicated lack of due care to ensure the money and property went to a biological descendant.”

“In most of these things, the family settles out of court. Going to court means everyone and their auntie finding out how much someone was worth. And it means the tax authorities finding it out too.” Mormont stood up and Jon followed suit. “You’ve a good eye for detail and research, Snow. There’s a meeting with the client at the end of the week and a hearing next Thursday. You’ll attend both.”

“Thank you.” Jon hoped he was disguising his excitement and the butterflies currently making themselves known in his belly. Attending real meetings and working on real cases. He thought again of how lucky he was and how he had to work harder every day to prove he could handle this. 

Mormont handed him a magazine. Jon recognized it as a copy of _Northern Law Quarterly_. It was expensive and he usually read copies in the WHU library. “There’s an article in here I think you might find interesting – pages seventeen through twenty. Get yourself a copy and we can discuss it tomorrow.”

“I will.” Jon took it and headed straight for the printer copier that sat in the middle of the open office. He saw Sansa heading for him and smiled at her. It was a beautiful day outside, warm and sunny. Jon wondered if lunch from the hot dog stand in the park might be a good idea. 

“Jon.” He picked up instantly on the nerves in Sansa’s voice when she said his name. 

“Sansa.” Jon smiled, hoping there was a logical reason for his discomfort. “Mormont gave me an article to study.” 

Jon noticed that there was a document in the tray waiting to be collected and picked it up. 

“Is this yours? This – “ Jon glanced at what was on the first page and took in the doe in the headlights look on Sansa’s face. 

-

“I’m going on a coffee run – want any?” Myranda asked her. Sansa shook her head. She’d had an extra shot in her latte that morning and too much caffeine had always tended to make Sansa a bit jittery. 

“I think I’m going to stick with my water.”

“I think I’ll go for a caramel latte this time. A bit of sugar to give my morning some sparkle in among the piles and piles of files Jory has me organizing.” Myranda exaggerated a sad face and Sansa found herself giggling. 

“Enjoy.” 

When Myranda was out of sight, Sansa ensured her reflective cover was set on the computer screen and brought up the page she’d looked over earlier that morning on her phone over breakfast. It was only ten days until her interview at WHU and she needed to become more familiar with the course information. 

Sansa clicked on the button to print the document and headed for the printer copier. The printer at home had been broken for months but nobody had done anything about it. Her mother seldom printed anything, her father could do so at work and Arya, Bran and Rickon had access to one at school. 

She could start going through it tonight and maybe pick up a couple of the books to look through before her interview. The weekend would be a good time to do that. Her parents would be away with Rickon, spending a couple of nights with the Reeds in Greywater Watch to collect Bran, and Arya would most likely be at Gendry’s for most of the time. 

Teenaged Sansa would have revelled in the bliss of an empty house, but adult Sansa knew she’d miss her family when they were away. It would, however, give her ample opportunity to read up on WHU as much as possible. She didn’t have any plans at present other than a Sunday run with Jon. 

As she thought of him, Jon appeared in front of her at the same printer copier Sansa was headed for. She tried to force a smile on her face and willed her nerves to steady themselves as she said his name.

“Jon.” _Okay, nerves not steady here_. 

“Sansa.” Jon smiled at her and Sansa felt guilty for wishing her friend would move to the side and allow her to collect her printing without taking any interest in it. “Mormont gave me an article to study.” 

Sansa noted the _Northern Law Quarterly_ edition in his hand. It was the only magazine her father had a subscription to. 

“Is this yours? This – “ Jon glanced at what was on the paper and Sansa knew instantly her secret wasn’t really a secret any longer. “Here.”

Sansa took her printing from Jon and started fidgeting with her hair, a true tell-tale sign of her nerves. “Uhm, thank you, Jon.”

“Sansa?” He was looking at her so earnestly that Sansa had to swallow the sobs riding up her throat. Determined she was _not_ going to spend the next fifteen minutes hiding in the bathroom in tears, Sansa took in a few deep breaths before speaking.

“Lunch. We can – we can talk at lunch”, she told him. “Somewhere quiet, maybe.”

“I was going to suggest hot dogs in the park.” Sansa nodded. “I’ll come by your desk at the usual time.”

“I’ll see you then. I hope you enjoy your article.” Sansa turned away and kept her head down as she returned to her desk. She did something she hadn’t done since night terrors had plagued her as a child and counted to ten over and over again, silently in her head, until she was calm. It was something Robb had helped her with. 

It was going to be alright. Jon wouldn’t judge her. Jon wouldn’t laugh at her. 

She trusted Jon.

-

Jon watched as the final five minutes until his lunch break evaporated. He’d hardly been able to focus in the two hours and eleven minutes it had been since he’d met Sansa at the printer copier. She hadn’t given him any sort of explanation so he had been left with his own conclusions – she was interested in the WHU Lit program as more than a reading list. 

But Sansa had always loved the South, hadn’t she?

Jon thought back to when they were children. When he had interacted with Sansa, it had been the _Southron_ fairytales she had loved and sought to emulate in their play (much to Robb and Arya’s chagrin). It had all seemed so _right_ when she had gone to KLU. There had been no question as to her place of study. 

There was more to this than he knew already. Jon was more than confident in that thought. He finally got up from his desk and moved towards Sansa’s. That was, in itself, slightly out of character for them, as Sansa would normally come by _his_ desk. In any case, they would go for lunch together and discuss whatever Sansa wanted to tell him. 

Sansa was his _friend_. And Jon would let her speak her mind.

-

“Are you ready?”

Sansa looked up and nodded. She was ready for lunch and ready to tell him about her intention to move home. Maybe she had met Jon at the printer copier for a reason. Maybe the universe was trying to tell her it was time to tell _someone_. In the time since she’d returned to her desk after meeting Jon, Sansa couldn’t recall any of the work-related tasks she had completed. It was all a blur, though at least her breathing had steadied now. 

She hoped Myranda and the rest of them hadn’t seen how freaked out she was. 

It had been warm even when her father had driven them in a little before nine but Sansa still grabbed the cardigan she’d brought with her. Picking it up gave her something to do, another moment to compose herself. 

They walked mostly in silence to the nearby park. It wasn’t a large one, but there was a gazebo and benches for people to sit on, and monkey bars and so on for children to play at. And, in the summer, there were stands selling hot dogs and candy floss and ice creams with sticks of chocolate in them. 

The silence wasn’t tense in spite of the situation. Her heart thudded a little harder each moment they got closer to the park, but she didn’t feel any oppression in the lack of conversation. Her desire to move home had been such a personal journey thus far it seemed strange to finally be sharing it with someone else. 

When they got there, it was Jon who took charge of matters by ordering their hot dogs. Sansa wondered when he’d discovered she loved fried onions with hers but loathed mustard. One day long in the past when her father had made them at a barbeque, she guessed. When they were all younger, her parents would host barbeques sometimes in the summer for a few of the neighbours. Or as a treat one Saturday. And Robb always used to invite Jon along.

The onions were cooked just the way Sansa liked them and she was hungrier than she realized. At the end of it, she thought a second one wouldn’t be so bad – and not only because it would delay the inevitable conversation long enough for her to perhaps figure out how to start it. 

“You want an ice cream?” Jon asked her, breaking the silence between them. Sansa shook her head. No, for all she wanted a delay the sooner this was started, the sooner it was over and done with. Pandora’s box – or, in this case _Sansa’s_ box – would be open.

“I want to come home”, she blurted out in a small voice, her eyes looking down at the grass. “Back to the North, I mean.” She fidgeted with her hands and made herself lift her face and look at Jon. 

“You want to transfer to White Harbour?”

“I do. I have a meeting there next Friday to talk to someone in Admissions about it. I can’t – Jon, I don’t want to go back to the South. I miss home. I miss my family. I miss cold winters and the first frost and those days between winter and spring when the grass is crispy and white and the sky is blue, and you get blinded by the low sun”, Sansa sighed. She moved further back in the bench. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You wouldn’t be the first person to get homesick after moving away. I only moved to White Harbour and that first semester was hard. I got over it. You moved to practically the other end of Westeros.”

Jon could be really sweet. Sansa thought again how lucky she was – how lucky they all were – that Robb and Jon’s first teacher had liked the alphabet so much. And telling him just that one small thing had given her such a sense of relief and release. As if a massive weight had started to be lifted from Sansa’s shoulders. 

Sansa felt her breathing become more regular and steeled herself. 

“There’s more”, she told him. “But, when I tell you, I need you to be _my_ friend. Not Robb’s friend or Arya’s friend. _My_ friend.”

Jon agreed as Sansa had known he would. She knew from speaking to her brother that Jon hadn’t told everything about Friday night. Had it really only been a few days since then? But she still felt like she’d needed to say it. To make it clear that she was speaking to him in confidence. 

“I know you think it’s strange or whatever that I haven’t told anyone in the family that I want to move home.”

“I can understand you not wanting to get their hopes up if it turns out White Harbour won’t accept your transfer credits or they don’t have space on the program you want into”, Jon told her. 

“It isn’t that. If I don’t get in to White Harbour I still won’t go back. I’ll transfer somewhere else that’ll have me. Moat Cailin wouldn’t be so bad. I’d be on the right side of the Neck, in any case. No…..on Friday, when we were back at your place, you asked me about Joffrey. My parents don’t know the finer details of what happened between us because Robert is my father’s oldest and closest friend and I know he would feel guilty for suggesting I get in touch with Robert’s son, and – “ Sansa took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. 

“Robb and Arya, they know why Joffrey and I split up. They know what happened and they think they know the full truth, but they don’t.” Sansa could feel the tears wet her cheeks but she made no move to wipe them away. She only squeezed her thanks when Jon took her hands in his. She could do this. Joffrey wasn’t going to hold the past over her anymore. “They know what happened _then_. They don’t know what happened _after_.”

“What did he do to you?” Sansa could hear the control in Jon’s voice. She could tell he was angry at Joffrey as Robb and Arya would’ve been. 

“He didn’t hit me or attack me in any physical way. He just did more of what he’d done when we were together. Joffrey told everyone he’d been the one to end our relationship – that didn’t bother me, to be honest, I just wanted rid of him – and that I was stalking him, unable to deal with our break-up. He turned me into a laughing stock. It was schoolboy stuff I suppose, when it comes down to it. What hurt was that it became very clear to me very quickly that _OUR_ friends were actually _HIS_ friends.”

“If they couldn’t see how amazing you are then they don’t deserve to be your friend”, Jon told her. 

“I’ve just been so lonely”, Sansa sobbed. The tears were coming quicker now. “My roommate spent most of the time at her boyfriend’s. People I’d never or barely spoken to gave me a wide berth because of what Joffrey had said. Either they believed it or they weren’t willing to contradict Joffrey. I’m the daughter of a Northern lawyer. I’m nothing and no one down in King’s Landing. Joffrey is the grandson of one of the most powerful men in Westeros. Powerful and rich. Outside of group projects, I’ve barely interacted with anyone on my course. I hate it there. And I don’t ever want to go back.”

“Shhhhhh”, Jon murmured. He pulled Sansa in close and let her sob her heart out into his shoulder. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. WHU would be crazy not to take you. And you’ll have good people around you. You’re not nothing. You could never be nothing.”

Jon was warm and comforting and smelled of the wolfswood and home. 

“Sorry for being such a mess”, Sansa apologized. She took a packet of tissues from her bag and wiped her cheeks dry. Hopefully her eyes wouldn’t be a complete mess. Sansa didn’t want to have to explain herself to anyone. It would be mortifying to be thought of as the girl who spent her lunch break crying. 

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do feel better for telling you.” It felt freeing to have someone to discuss it with. She’d held it in and held it in and now to have shared her isolation with Jon, she didn’t feel so alone anymore. Being at home helped too. Being around her family helped. But so did talking to Jon. 

“You want an ice cream?” Jon asked her again. 

Sansa smiled and even found herself chuckling. “Yeah. That’d be pretty great.”

She watched Jon go to the ice cream stand and come back with two strawberry cones. When her father had told her that Robb was spending summer in the Westerlands, she could never have envisaged how much she’d confide in Jon. 

“Here you go.” He handed her the cone and sat back down on the bench. 

“Thank you. For lunch and the ice cream and for listening. Thank you for being my friend. My only friend, I think. Quality is better than quantity, though. Right?”

“Right. And this quality friend is going to take his day off next Friday and come with you to White Harbour.”

“What? Jon, I can’t ask you to do that.” She was so, so touched but it was far too much to ask of him. 

“First off, you didn’t _ask_. I _offered_. Second, I can take you on a tour of White Harbour and everywhere we go in those stupid stories Robb used to tell you on video chat.” Sansa laughed. “It’ll be fun. We can even go to _The Wolf’s Den_ for lunch.”

“That sounds pretty great, friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So........Jon knows..........


	11. Best Laid Plans

Between one thing and another it took until Friday for them to make it to Gage’s for lunch. Jon was looking forward to an entire weekend of nothing – well, apart from his now standing Sunday run with Sansa. Online registration for the fun race was opening this weekend and they’d both agreed on running the full 10k.

“What are you planning for your weekend?” he asked while they waited on their food. 

“Other than our run, a lot of blissful nothing”, Sansa sighed. “Well, sort of. I want to run through that White Harbour reading list again and read up a bit about WHU online. First up, though, is a long hot bath. I’m thinking music, a book and bath salts.”

“You can have that when everyone else is home.”

“I know. But it isn’t the same when Rickon is screaming at someone from the other end of the house and Arya is thundering upstairs and Bran is in the next room on video chat. Tonight, I’ll have the entire house to myself.”

“Me too. Well, as far as human company is concerned. My mother has a night out planned. One of the nurses is transferring to a hospital in Barrowton.” Jon thought back to some of the nights out his mother had been on in the past and mentally shivered. Although he planned on doing nothing all weekend, he figured at least some of Saturday would be spent helping his mother deal with her inevitable hangover. “What about Arya?”

“Staying over at Gendry’s. My parents have certainly mellowed. I know neither Robb nor I were ever allowed relationship sleep-overs when we were Arya’s age.”

“Not fair, is it?” Jon grinned. This war of parental permission was something he seemed to have missed out on. The war of siblings being allowed to do things the elder ones were not. 

“It isn’t. What were Lyanna’s rules on that? Was she as strict as my parents?” Jon snorted. Strict was _not_ a word he would apply to his mother’s parenting – unless it involved his schoolwork. “What?”

“So, Ygritte and I were together when we were sixteen. Her family were pretty lax about making sure she stayed in her bed all through the night. She used to sneak out and come over to mine when my mother was on night shift from time to time.”

“Jon Snow! You sly little thing. I didn’t think you were a troublemaker.” Sansa’s eyes sparkled with humour. She’d been so much happier since their lunch on Tuesday. Jon guessed that there was part of Sansa relieved to have shared her secret with someone.

“I thought I was outsmarting her the first few times it happened – right until the moment she slammed a box of condoms down on the kitchen table after work one day and told me she was too young to be a grandmother.” Sansa could sit across from him and laugh about it now but it hadn’t been a joke to Jon at the time. He’d been too stunned and freaked out to admit to his mother that he and Ygritte hadn’t, technically speaking, had sex yet. 

“I never thought you would’ve been sneaking girls into your bedroom.” Sansa shook her head. “Theon, most definitely, but not you or Robb.”

Jon twitched slightly and Sansa was on him in an instant.

“Who?”

“Not telling. I’m going to be Robb’s friend here and keep his secrets.”

“Saved by the food”, Sansa grumbled as the server set down the turkey salad ciabattas they’d ordered and the sweet potato fries Jon had argued they should get to share. 

“I can’t imagine it”, Sansa told him a few minutes later. Imagine what? “Not having siblings, I mean. That rivalry and support.”

Jon shrugged. Technically speaking, he supposed he did have siblings. Rhaegar had two children by his wife, both older than Jon. He had seen their pictures in the newspapers and on TV. A boy in Rhaegar’s image and a girl in the mother’s. 

“I bet you wouldn’t have said that five or ten years ago.” Rhaegar and his family was always a topic of conversation best avoided wherever possible. “Didn’t you and Arya have huge rows when you were younger that usually ended up with one of you disowning the other?”

Sansa picked at her fries. “Would you believe me if I said I’m actually glad that we were like that years ago because now I appreciate Arya more? I don’t take her for granted.”

“I would.” Sansa might withhold the odd secret – her transfer application to White Harbour being a case in point – but she seldom told an outright lie, and never where her family were concerned. “Oh, I finally heard back this morning. About next Friday?”

“Good.” She smiled at him. “I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m really pleased to have someone there for support. And to take my mind off it on the way there and back. It’s a lot easier to keep your mind occupied when you’re at home. There’s so much more to do.”

“I checked out the train times online. The one we want leaves Wintertown at eight thirty and arrives at White Harbour at ten fifteen. The terminal is around a ten minute walk from campus, so it will get us there in plenty of time. We can get the three ten back and be home for dinner. As I said on Tuesday, I’d offer to drive but between the state of my car and the traffic, I don’t want to risk missing your appointment.”

“Jon, you are a star even for coming with me.” Sansa pulled out her phone and began tapping away quickly. “There. I’ve booked our tickets. We can collect them from the machine on Friday morning. What did you tell your mother?”

Jon had to laugh at that. It made the trip sound as if they were naughty teens sneaking away or conspiring to stay out beyond curfew. Sansa joined in when he explained. “I suppose it does sound a bit like that.”

“I’ll tell her that I need to run down to White Harbour for a few hours to sort out some things for next semester. Which is true. While you’re in at your appointment, I’m going to run down to the Law School building and try to pick up some more materials on my module choices for next year. I’ve got a few weeks to decide and I want to make sure I choose right.”

“ _The Wolf’s Den_ for lunch?”

“ _The Wolf’s Den_ for lunch”, Jon agreed. He was looking forward to this trip. 

-

Sansa lay back in the piping hot bubble bath and let out a deep sigh. It was Friday evening and she had the house all to herself for the first time since her return home. As much as she’d craved company and family on that train journey north and in King’s Landing in the months before, she also valued a little alone time. Having grown up in a busy and loud house, Sansa had always felt quiet time to herself to think was precious. 

Her father had left the office a little early for the drive down to Greywater. He’d passed by her desk, told her to enjoy the peace and quiet, and reminded her that he was but a phone call away if she needed anything from him. Otherwise, either Jon, Arya or Gendry would be able to help with anything she required. 

Jon had dropped her off at the house, having allowed for a stop on the way for Pentoshi takeout that was currently in the slow warmer to stop it from cooling down, and said he’d see her on Sunday for their run. Once she’d set up the slow warmer, Sansa had stripped off her work clothes in favour of a silk dressing gown she often wore in the warmth of King’s Landing, and turned on the hot water. 

The bath was filled with scents of lemon and juniper berries and there were vanilla candles burning on the shelf of an open window that let in the early evening chirping of summer birds. This was sheer bliss and luxury and Sansa intended to savour every minute of it for as long as it lasted. 

Myranda, upon hearing she was spending the weekend alone, had tried to tempt her with a night out but Sansa had resisted. 

Had it really only been a week since that night out? It felt far longer to Sansa. As if it had happened weeks ago, she decided as she lathered her legs in her favoured _Estermont_ soap. So much had happened since, most notably _that_ lunch with Jon. Once she’d let him in on her secret and cried herself out a little, Sansa had felt such a sense of release. It had been so freeing to finally open up to someone about the hell that had been her life since the end of her relationship with Joffrey. 

Splitting with Joffrey had not, in truth, been the end of Sansa’s agony. It had simply marked the transition into a different one.

Although Sansa had always intended to go to White Harbour herself and knew she could do so alone if she wanted to, it would be a great support to have Jon there with her – if for no other reason than to distract Sansa from her nerves. And he was just the right person to have with her and to know her secret. Jon was close to her family but not her blood. He had known her a long time but there wasn’t an extensive history they had to work around. 

Her phone buzzed on the seat next to the bath but Sansa made no moves to react to it. This was her me time and whomever it was could wait. If it was important, they’d try again or call the landline her parents couldn’t bring themselves to get rid of, though it was only used once or twice a month. The noise stopped and Sansa redirected her thoughts to the aftermath of Tuesday lunch with Jon. 

It had been such a relief in the days after to not have to be so careful when they spoke; to not have to speak generally rather than specifically; to not have to deflect the instant Jon mentioned King’s Landing. And yet, they had seldom mentioned White Harbour or Sansa’s planned return to the North in that time. Jon had only commented when they’d discussed Robb that he knew her brother would be ecstatic to hear she was coming home – even if it was ultimately to Moat Cailin rather than White Harbour or Wintertown. 

Robb……..she’d have to text her brother and see if there was a time over the weekend he’d be available for a video chat. With his internship keeping him busy during the week and at least one (usually two) of her nights taken up with running, Sansa had found herself seeing even less of her brother than normal. When he’d been away at WHU and her at KLU, they’d speak on video chat at least twice, normally three times, in a week. 

Yes, a video chat with Robb was a must. At least next weekend she wouldn’t be bursting when they spoke, desperate to discuss her interview at White Harbour, as it was next weekend Robb and Jeyne were planning a trip to Fair Isle. Jeyne had sent her a link to the hotel website and Sansa had been more than a little envious. 

She was far better off single than with Joffrey, but that didn’t mean Sansa wasn’t immune to occasional hopeful pangs – thoughts that it would be lovely for someone to treat her as wonderfully as Robb was treating Jeyne. Someone to take her off on little weekends away. Sansa seriously doubted that was what would’ve been in store for her had she succumbed to Harry Hardyng’s advances. 

It was curious. The Sansa Stark who had left Wintertown at the age of eighteen would have loved to date a Harry Hardyng. She would have seen him as a prospective Prince Charming and been delighted by the attention he gave her. That Sansa Stark had been a girl; the Sansa Stark who had replaced her was a woman. And she did not intend to fall for the false niceties the Joffreys and Harrys of Westeros tried to entice her with. Not again. 

Sansa’s mind wandered to the bottle of white wine currently chilling in the fridge and tried to decide which film she could watch. Tonight, there was no Arya and no Rickon to compromise with. 

-

“I can’t remember the last time I had a night to myself like that”, Jeyne sighed. Sansa saw the little kicked puppy look in Robb’s eyes on the laptop screen. “You know I love you, but just as you like to have time to go out with Jon or Theon, I like the idea of being able to lie in a bath tub and just soak with a good book.”

Robb whispered something to Jeyne that Sansa didn’t catch. Given the light blush it brought in her neck, Sansa decided it was probably something she hadn’t wanted to overhear anyway. Instead, she changed the subject. 

“And what did the two of you do with your Friday night?”

“Pizza!” Robb cheered. 

“Yeah, we hadn’t had it for ages, and you know how sometimes you just _want_ something?”

“Definitely”, Sansa agreed with a nod. More than once in her time in the South she had craved lemon cakes from Mordane’s to the extent that she’d asked her mother to buy a few and send them down in a care parcel. “I had Pentoshi last night. Jon stopped by the place round the corner from _Castle Black_ on the way home.”

“Jon gave you a ride home?”

“It was either that or a cab, but I didn’t have to ask. He offered when he realised dad was leaving the office early. I just put it in on slow to keep it warm while I had my bath. And then I spent the night watching fluffy movies you and Arya always voted me down on at movie night.”

Jeyne laughed. “Good on you, Sansa.”

“Oh, and speaking of good on me, I registered for the 10k fun race last night.”

“Wow, well done. I couldn’t even think about running that far”, Jeyne told her. “I prefer a bit of a cycle or a hike.”

Sansa smiled at Jeyne’s support. If she got into WHU, then getting to know Jeyne (the woman Sansa was fairly sure would one day become her sister-in-law) would be a definite bonus. “I’ve been putting in the training hours with Jon and we both decided to just go for it and go the longer distance. He’s been really great as a running buddy.”

“Jon’s really great generally”, she replied. 

“What have you got planned for today?” Robb asked. 

“I had thought about spending the day sitting outside in the sun, if it was warm enough, and reading a book, but Arya’s talked me into having lunch with her and Gendry. She’s on a post-tournament treat week and wants to take advantage with a pub lunch. How about you?”

Robb groaned and Jeyne patted him gently on the arm. “It isn’t that bad. You like Ray.”

“It isn’t just spending the afternoon sightseeing with Ray, though, is it?”

“No”, Jeyne agreed. “But I told my mother that we had plans for this evening. The sort that come with non-refundable tickets. So, we shouldn’t have to stay too long after we drop him off. I’m sorry. I know how she is.”

“Jeyne has the patience of several saints”, Robb informed her. Sansa smiled softly. Jeyne’s mother sounded as bad as Cersei, if not worse. When she compared them to her own mother or Lyanna, it was no contest. Robb and Jon were lucky to have mothers who did not scare off prospective girlfriends as Sansa suspected Jeyne’s mother may have in the past with prospective boyfriends. 

“I don’t think I’m any more patient than anybody else. I just have more experience in dealing with her than you do.”

“Sansa?! Are you ready?!” 

“Okay, even I heard that loudly and clearly”, said Robb. Sansa chuckled and opened the kitchen door, calling through to Arya that she was speaking to Robb. Gendry followed Arya in and the five of them spent a good half hour chatting away until Arya announced she was hungry and they needed to go. 

Sansa shut down the laptop and stored it safely away. “Where would you like to go?”

“I had thought about a pub in Cerwyn that Gendry and I found a couple of months back, but I’m too hungry to wait that long. How about Icemark? Summer is a great time for slushies and the ice sculpture they have in the entry hallway is amazing.”

“Slushies? I thought you were hungry?” Sansa teased. Arya rolled her eyes and then stuck her tongue out in response. 

“I’ll go and start the car”, offered Gendry. 

“I will be two minutes”, Sansa replied, holding up two fingers to emphasise that. She hurried upstairs to grab her sunglasses and bag and was amused to see Arya waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, pretending to time her. 

Arya shook her head. “You over-estimated how long it would take you by over a minute. Standards are slipping, Sansa. It used to be at least half an hour over.”

“I now practice punctuality. Sorry.” Sansa followed Arya out to Gendry’s car and sat behind her sister. “Did you go out anywhere last night?”

“No. We had a Marvel marathon. We started over from the beginning again.”

“Because Arya hasn’t seen them enough times to appreciate that _Thor_ is the best of the bunch.”

“No, you dumb bull, _Captain Marvel_ is the best. The clue is in the title.

“I haven’t seen many of them”, Sansa put in, keen to avoid spending the entire lunch debating this subject again. “I have seen _Wonder Woman_ , though.”

Sansa had gone to see _Wonder Woman_ alone, sitting at the back of an outdoor showing in King’s Landing. It had been on as part of a _Women in Film_ festival the Gender Studies department at KLU helped to organise. The festival had been held not long after she returned south for her second year and at the time Sansa had revelled in feeling a sense of being part of something, of community. A shared experience. She’d even stayed for the talk afterwards, on female characters in superhero movies, and spoken to Arya on video chat about it.

“ _Wonder Woman_ is DC. That’s different”, Arya reminded her. Her sister turned around in her chair. “We talked about that when you told me about the film festival on a video call. You never did tell me what Robb said when you told him Marvel and DC were pretty much the same thing.”

“I don’t think I did tell him.” Sansa frowned. She tried to recall and was then brought back into the past and the encounter she’d had with Margaery and a couple of others at the coffee place next to the library. Sansa had never been back there after the humiliation of having everyone stare at her while Marge and her friends laughed. By chance, she’d arranged a video call with Robb later on in the day, and all she’d wanted was her big brother to calm her with his silly stories. 

He’d told her one about Tormund jumping naked off the pier at White Harbour on a dare. 

“If you ever do, I’d like to be there. It’d be entertaining. Like that time he walked in on me and Gendry and the gym.”

“That was _not_ entertaining”, Gendry put in. 

“The look on his face was. I swear, Robb tries to be all modern and enlightened and all that bullcrap, but he has a protective streak the size of Westeros in him. I pity any daughters our brother has. He’ll want to keep them away from boys until they’re at least thirty.”

“Very true.” Though, if she was honest, Sansa found herself as always caught between wanting to escape his smothering protectiveness and enveloping herself in the feelings it caused with her, the joy at having someone who cared as much as Robb did.

“We’ll need to tag team him with Jeyne. Icemark! Finally!” Given the rumbles Sansa could hear her sister’s stomach was making over Gendry’s noisy car engine, she was equally as relieved to be here. It seemed like the croissants she’d picked up at Mordane’s for breakfast had been more than five hours ago. 

As soon as they entered the place, Sansa realised just how long it had been since her last visit here. It must have been years – Bran’s eleventh birthday, perhaps. The ice sculpture of the Brandon that had allegedly founded Wintertown thousands of years earlier. It had always excited her brother to share his name with the noted historical figure. 

While Arya went off in search of the bathroom, Sansa followed Gendry through to the dining area and they bagged a table by the window. It had still to be cleared from the last usage, but Sansa didn’t mind. It was a summer Saturday at lunchtime and they were lucky to get such a well-situated table.

“We can play our game from here”, Gendry told her once he’d set the dirty plates to the side of the table. 

“Your game?”

“Arya likes to people watch. She says it’s why she’s going to study Sociology and Psychology.”

“Arya is nosy”, Sansa corrected fondly. “Not in a mean way, I’ve met lots of people who are, but in a curious sort of way. I don’t think I’m explaining myself well here.”

Gendry laughed lightly. “No, I know well enough what you mean. Arya’s like Rickon – she has too much energy and has to work it off.”

“I don’t think I want to know – “

“I meant her fencing! And the sports training.” Gendry began to redden and Sansa burst out laughing. 

“Sorry. It was just, after what you said about Robb, the temptation was too great.”

“My apologies, I’ll get this cleaned up for you.” Sansa looked up to see a server gather up the plates Gendry had just moved. “I’ll be back in a few moments to wipe the table and then take your order, if you’re ready.”

“Thank you”, Sansa replied. She remembered going out for dinner with Joffrey and his scorn of both the servers and of her, for having the manners to say _please_ and _thank you_. Gendry may be Joffrey’s half-brother, but he wasn’t like that. And Sansa knew Jon wasn’t either. 

She took one of the menus out of the holder and studied it, trying to decide what to have. There was salmon and new potatoes in the fridge at home that Sansa had earmarked for her evening meal so she wanted to avoid fish. 

A burger sounded great. Pulled pork with barbeque sauce and a side of sweet potato fries, something she had grown to love over the last few weeks. Arya always insisted on something unhealthy at these post-competition treat blow-outs. With that thought, Sansa turned the menu over to look at the desserts and spotted lemon cheesecake. 

As she looked at the picture of said lemon cheesecake, Sansa hoped fervently that she wasn’t actually drooling.

“What are you thinking?” she asked Gendry. 

“Double cheeseburger with everything, a side of fries – because Arya will finish her fries and still want more – and onion rings. Maybe some wings, actually. They have the sweet chilli ones.”

“That sounds amazing.” Arya slipped into the seat next to Gendry and took one of the two menus left in the holder. It took her around ten seconds to decide and she was ready when the server came back to wipe the table. Sansa ordered first, followed by Gendry. 

“Triple cheeseburger, no gherkins, a side of fries and a raspberry slushie”, Arya ordered. When the server left, she turned to Gendry. “Sansa will have lemon cheesecake for dessert and I like the look of the sticky chocolate fudge cake. How about you?”

Sansa passed no comment on just how well her sister knew her and instead listened to Gendry mull over whether he should have apple pie or a brownie sundae.

-

Jon had a serious case of food envy as he looked through the pictures Sansa had sent him of her lunch with Arya and Gendry. He thought of the ham and cheese sandwich he had made for his own lunch with distaste and thought yet again that perhaps it was time for him to learn to cook properly. 

“That looks amazing”, his mother told him. She was leaning on his shoulder, looking at a picture of the burgers they’d all ordered at Icemark. “Maybe that would’ve been a good place to go to line our stomachs for tonight. Ah well, I’m sure the diner Barba has picked out will be great. This is one of Arya’s blow-outs?”

“Yep. If you’re going to break your strict training diet then just ordering a full-fat ice cream for dessert isn’t really going to do it. She and Gendry will have a few tequilas and some beers tonight after that, I’d guess.” Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned tequila. His mother’s nurses could be wild on their nights out, as he recalled to his cost. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait up for you to call? It’d be easier than a cab.”

“No, no. I’m not sure how late I’ll be. The band’s set should finish around midnight, but I’m not sure if we’ll head on to a club after. In any case, there’s a couple of the girls live close by so it isn’t as if I need to take a cab alone.” Nurse Dustin’s leaving party had been postponed at the last minute, when she’d realized that her favourite Wintertown band would be playing at _Greyguard_. “I’m going to head for a shower now.”

“Cool.” Jon glanced at the clock and saw it was a little after five. His mother had at least agreed to a lift to the dinner. “Is quarter to seven alright to leave?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I _can_ always grab a cab.”

“How many times did you drop me off for a night out with Robb, or over at the Stark place? It’s fine. Go for your shower. I’m just going to take Ghost for a walk.” 

Ghost’s ears perked up at the sound of the word _walk_ , which he’d soon picked up after moving into the Snow household. Jon quickly fastened his leash and walked out into the early evening sunshine. He’d take Ghost on a decent walk just now and then let him out into the back yard to do his business before bedtime. 

Ghost woofed happily as they passed a group of people Jon vaguely recognized as having been a few years ahead of him in school. It was strange to think of how little contact he had with people from that part of his life – save the Starks, particularly Robb, Sansa and Arya. Remembering he had yet to respond to her text message, Jon took out his phone and typed while he and Ghost walked.

_Looks delicious. That’s got me salivating worse than Ghost. Hope it tasted as good as it looked!_

Thinking of things that were strange, it hit Jon around the time he pressed _send_ that he’d probably texted and spoken to Sansa more recently than he had Robb. While the latter made sense as Robb was in the Westerlands, he and Sansa saw each other five – no, six – days a week. And yet, he texted Sansa more often in the evenings than Robb. His phone pinged.

_Delicious. All three of us had afternoon-long food babies! I think I’ll spend this evening in a food coma watching TV. Am currently very, very sleepy. How is Lyanna?_

Jon was always touched by how the Starks asked after his mother so often.

_She’s fine now, thanks. The night out was postponed to this evening so they could go to a gig. What are you planning on watching?_

As they approached the local store, Jon realized he hadn’t bought the weekly _Wintertown Gazette_. There wasn’t much in the local newspaper, but he still purchased it faithfully every week he was home out of a sense of local loyalty – and more so of habit. He attached Ghost’s leash to the pole outside and quickly ran in. Spotting some of his favourite chili corn chips, Jon grabbed a couple of large bags and added them to his paper. 

His phone pinged as he paid for his shopping and a grin spread across his face when Sansa’s response appeared on the screen.

_Undecided. Any recommendations?_

Jon bit his lip and made a quick decision. 

_Ghost and I were planning on re-watching the_ Fantastic Beasts _movies with some pizza and beers. There’s a double feature on Channel 8. Would you like to join us? I could collect you._

Jon put his phone back in his jeans pocket and carried along the street with Ghost. 

-

“Enjoy yourself and drink lots of water.”

“I feel like this is supposed to work the other way around”, his mother responded wryly. “I thought I was the parent.”

“You are, but after a couple of glasses of wine you mistake the role of Head Nurse for Head Partier when you’re out with the girls.” Jon thought back to some of the nights out his mother had been on since he’d turned eighteen and she’d allowed herself to go out and have fun again without worrying about him. 

“True. Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Enjoy your Harry Potter night.”

Jon’s phone pinged. “I will do. See you later.” He waved as she walked away and picked up the phone before pulling out.

_Fell asleep and just woke up. Would love to join you and Ghost if the offer is still open?_

Jon clicked into Sansa’s name and called her. She picked up on the second ring. “I’ve just dropped my mother off for dinner. Can you be ready in ten minutes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. You haven’t eaten yet?”

“I was going to order pizza.”

“I’ll see you in ten minutes, then”, Sansa yawned. Jon wondered if she was properly awake yet and chuckled at the thought of Ghost’s reaction to him returning home with Sansa. He’d attached himself to her so quickly and easily in the short time since he’d been part of the Snow family.

Jon ended the call and pulled out into traffic. He was looking forward to the movies. He hadn’t seen either of them since just before Christmas. There had been a snowstorm in White Harbour, the severity of which had led to WHU cancelling Friday classes and he’d spent the weekend in the apartment with Robb and Jeyne bingeing the eight movies and both prequels as they waited for the snow to clear. 

The road was pretty much clear to the Stark house and Jon arrived to find Sansa waiting out front for him, her cardigan wrapped around her shoulders and a large tote bag at her feet. He smiled and waved at her, before leaning over to open the passenger side door. 

“Snacks?”

“No. I’m still a little stuffed from lunch. That lemon cheesecake was enough for at least two people. I just – you said you were having a few beers, so I brought wine.” Sansa stepped into the car and Jon heard a clinking noise coming from her tote bag. “I take it you were only on drop off duty tonight?”

“Yep. As they would say in the world of Harry Potter, Merlin alone knows how late they’ll be out. Barbs is pretty popular and I’m quite sure the club they _might be going to_ will quite quickly become the club they _are going to_.”

Sansa laughed as she clicked her seatbelt into place. “I can’t imagine my mother – well, either of my parents, really, if I’m honest – in a club. That makes it sound like I think they were born responsible, adulting parents who have never had any other identities or something.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sure I could imagine your father in a nightclub either.”

“So, what did you get up to today?”

“Nothing much. I had a few errands to run earlier. Nothing exciting.”

“The quiet, peaceful weekend you actually had planned, then?” Sansa jested. 

“Sometimes breaking out of what we have planned is good. In White Harbour, sometimes we find that the nights out we don’t plan are the best ones.”

“Like the one with Tormund jumping off the pier?”

“Exactly.” Jon mentally shuddered at the thought of that one. He was glad Tormund had been the one to lose that bet. His friend was mad enough that had anyone else been in that situation, he’d have run off with their clothes. 

They chatted about White Harbour nights out until they reached the house. Jon opened the door and called for Ghost, telling him that Sansa was here. The dog came bounding through from the kitchen and started sniffing at Sansa’s shoes, before woofing and wagging his tail wildly. 

Sansa began to pet him and Jon left them to locate the menu for the pizza place in town. It wasn’t long until the first movie was due to start and in any case Saturday night was probably one of their busiest. Although Sansa had eaten a decent sized lunch, Jon had only prepared himself a sandwich. 

“What would you like?” he asked, holding up the menu. 

“Nothing too fancy. A vegetarian without onions, maybe?” Sansa replied over Ghost’s woofs. 

Jon called in their order and poured them both a glass of wine – red from the cupboard for him and white from a bottle she’d brought with her for Sansa – and then settled down on the sofa in front of the TV. Ghost insisted on sitting to Sansa’s left, pushing her in closer to him. Jon didn’t mind. He sometimes had personal space issues, but this was _Sansa_. 

“Which do you prefer?” Jon asked her, as they waited for the film to start. 

“Which what?”

“ _Fantastic Beasts_ movie. I know Robb has thoughts about a younger version of Dumbledore – “

“So, I have another confession to make”, Sansa told him. Jon looked at her curiously. He knew Sansa loved Harry Potter as much as the rest of them. “Between one thing and another…….I haven’t actually seen either of them.”

Jon snorted. “I take it Robb doesn’t know about this.”

“Gods, no. And I – “

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Remember? Besides, it will be moot point in a few hours. But I thought I remembered him talking to you about them once. On video chat?”

Sansa covered her face and then set her hands down in her lap again. “I might have – in the interests of family harmony and avoiding bloodshed – implied that I’d seen them. Well, that is, Robb asked me what I thought and I told him it was strange watching a Harry Potter movie without Harry Potter.”

The credits started to roll, preventing further conversation for the moment. “I’m sure you’ll love them. And if not, you can vent your bugbears on me rather than Robb and Arya”, Jon assured her. 

-

“Mnughn”, Jon mumbled, feeling disorientated. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the light, and looked up at his bright-eyed mother. She wore a wide grin on her face that told Jon she’d have a _very_ good night. “Hey. Good night?”

“Fantastic”, she giggled. “Why are you on the sofa?”

Jon tried to think. Sansa. “Sansa came over to watch a couple of movies and fell asleep. I sent her upstairs to sleep in my bed with Ghost. We called a cab but there was a forty-five minute wait, so I figured it was easier for her to stay. What time is it?”

His mother didn’t answer, just swayed and yawned, so Jon squinted his eyes and looked at his phone. It was a little after three. Sansa had gone upstairs around midnight, so he’d been here for a while. There was a crick in his neck, but Jon would be fine. A night on the sofa wouldn’t do him any real damage. He quickly went through to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water for his mother. 

“Here. Have some of this and go to bed. I’ll make scrambled eggs on toast in the morning.”

“You’re a sweetheart, Jon.” She leaned over the back of the sofa and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “Pretty girl in your bed and you’re down here. Good boy, I’ve raised. You’d be great together, though. Night.”

“Night.”

Jon lay back down on the sofa and listened as his mother walked up the creaking staircase and noisily moved around. He lay awake long after the noise ceased, though, thinking about his mother’s drunken throwaway comment. Thinking about Sansa falling asleep nestled into the crook of his arm. Thinking about how much this fantastic woman had come to mean to him. All of a sudden the fact she was Robb’s sister seemed to have crept up on him. 

It hit Jon that the time had come to admit to himself that he was maybe, perhaps, kind of, sort of, possibly growing feelings for Sansa Stark.


	12. The Morning After

The first thing Sansa felt when she woke up was a wetness lapping at her hand. It took her a moment to remember where she was and realize that the wetness was coming from Ghost. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her dry hand and then gave Ghost a quick pet. He woofed happily and thumped his wagging tail on the floor. 

Sansa looked around her and took in the bare walls of Jon’s bedroom. She’d never been in here before last night. In all the years Robb and Jon had been friends, she’d only part of the upper floor she’d seen was the bathroom.

When the cab firm she called had informed her apologetically that they would be with her in forty-five minutes at the earliest, Jon had immediately told her not to accept the offer and stay over. It was strange for her, staying over with a friend. It was something she had missed over the last couple of years. 

Daylight was peeking through the blinds and Sansa saw from her phone that it was around eleven. Surely Jon would be up by now? She briefly debated whether or not she should change before going downstairs in search of some water, but decided against it. It wasn’t as if she’d had to sleep in her underwear or anything. Jon had kindly lent her an old, baggy Gryffindor t-shirt and a pair of plain black joggers.

Ghost started pawing on the door and Sansa took the hint, letting him out, and he went bounding off ahead of her. They’d let him out to do his business before bedtime last night – well, after midnight, so technically it had been this morning – and Sansa wondered if the licks her hand had been getting were Ghost’s way of waking her up gently to let him out. 

Walking down the stairs, Sansa could hear Ghost woofing, followed by the sounds of a door opening and closing – presumably Jon letting him out. There was a blanket neatly folded on the armrest of the sofa and Sansa hoped Jon hadn’t been _too_ uncomfortable sleeping there. He’d insisted that he fell asleep on the sofa from time to time after studying in White Harbour and it had never done him any harm. 

“Morning”, Sansa said softly, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. She was unsure when Lyanna had got home and didn’t want to wake her if she was still asleep. 

“Sansa. Morning.” Jon was at the counter, filling the coffee machine. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.” Before she could ask if there was water in the fridge, Jon had opened it and taken out a bottle. 

“He – ooft.” Jon caught his foot and stumbled towards her with the bottle of water falling to the floor, mercifully unopened. He righted himself and picked it up. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you alright?”

“Fine. Fine. I’m fine”, he replied. Sansa furrowed her brow as Jon took a deep breath in. “Sorry. I’m not really a morning person. I’ll be more human once I’ve had a cup of coffee. Did you sleep alright? Ghost wasn’t a bother?”

“Ghost was a perfect little gentleman”, Sansa giggled. “He wasn’t too forward – though licking is a new way of being woken up – and he didn’t hog the covers. But never mind me. You survived the sofa?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sofa. Uhm, yeah. Yeah, it was fine. My mother got in around three, I think it was. She was in a very good mood.” Sansa smiled and took a seat at the table. She didn’t believe much of what Jon had said about the sofa being fine but allowed him his chivalry. His stumbling and mumbling had her wondering not how much sleep he’d had but how little. 

Sansa watched quietly as Jon went about making their coffee. There was something oddly domesticated about it. 

-

_Stop being such an idiot_ , Jon scolded himself as he concentrated on putting together the coffee and filling Ghost’s water and food bowls. It was just, with the middle of the night revelation he’d had, Sansa walking sleep-tousled into _his_ kitchen wearing _his_ clothes had sort of short circuited Jon’s brain more than a little. And between the late breakfast and the dog in the yard, there was something so tranquil and domesticated about the scene. 

In the middle of the night Jon had admitted to himself that he was maybe, perhaps, kind of, sort of, possibly growing feelings for Sansa Stark. The moment he’d caught sight of her leaning against the doorframe in his old, faded Gryffindor top and the black joggers he sometimes slept in, Jon had known that was a complete understatement. He was definitely, totally, certainly, absolutely, undoubtedly growing feelings for Sansa Stark. 

There was just something so natural in her like this. Her hair was in a messy braid and she wore no make-up. Over the last few weeks he’d been invested in getting to know how wonderful Sansa was on the inside that it hadn’t always struck him how beautiful she was on the outside. Jon had grown up knowing Sansa was pretty. But it was in the same way he knew a particular hilltop view was stunning. It was simply a fact. And then there was the fact she was always Robb’s sister. 

She was still Robb’s sister. _Fuck_. 

“Here’s your coffee”, he murmured, placing a _Direwolves_ mug in front of her. 

“The band or the team?” Sansa quipped when she took in the logo on it. Jon smiled as he recalled their drive down to Torrhen’s Square for Arya’s tournament. 

“The team. It was a birthday gift from the old lady who lives next door.”

“This is good coffee.”

“Good.” Jon sipped away at his coffee as they spent a few moments in contented silence. Jon could get very used to this very quickly. “Would you like breakfast? I’m not a whizz in the kitchen, as you know, but I make a mean scrambled eggs on toast. The great snorer upstairs will wake up when she smells cooking.”

“Great snorer? What a thing to say about your mother!”

“She’d admit to it if she was here”, Jon protested. “She always snores when she’s had a few drinks. So, eggs?”

“Eggs”, Sansa agreed. 

Jon quieted Sansa’s offers of help and reminded her of how often he’d been treated to her cooking or baking over at the Stark house. He gathered together the eggs and milk and butter and got started. 

“A good thing none of us is lactose intolerant”, Sansa commented as she sat at the table, her chin resting on the palm of her hand, watching him work. 

Jon moved the egg around the pan and chuckled. It sounded like something Arya would say and he told her that. 

“A few years ago you would’ve attacked me for even suggesting that”, Jon informed her. He refilled the coffee pot, hearing the vague sounds of his mother starting to move around upstairs. 

“I – yeah, I probably would have”, Sansa agreed. “I had a great lunch with Arya and Gendry yesterday. He was telling me all about a course he’s thinking of taking on automotive engineering. I don’t think I ever realized before just how much he knows about cars.”

“He could definitely open up his own garage in the next few years. He’s wasted at Mott’s”, said Jon. He’d got to know Gendry pretty well since he and Arya had started spending more time together. As someone with an equally absent father, the two of them had bonded quickly over that – though Gendry remained in the dark as to the identity of Jon’s absent father. 

“Before I forget, are you still alright to go for a run later? I wondered if we might put it back to this evening given how late I slept.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I don’t have anything else planned for today. Did you get through any of the reading you’d planned on?” It was only five days until her interview at WHU.

“Some. I read on Friday night and a little yesterday morning. I’ve got all week. Thank you again, by the way. For coming with me? I really appreciate it.” She smiled at him and Jon felt something fluttering inside at the sight of it. A little smile just for him. Gods, he needed to get ahold of himself. Thank the gods his mother would be hungover – otherwise she’d pick up on him actually having feelings for Sansa in a heartbeat given how he was acting this morning. 

Sansa in his clothes was still doing _things_ to him. Things that had him worried about getting hard in the middle of the kitchen.

Jon was distracted from his thoughts of Sansa by the shuffling noise he knew was his mother trudging downstairs. She came into the kitchen just before the coffee he’d put on for her was ready. She walked over to him and laid her head on his shoulder. 

“There’s little worker ants hammering away inside my head, Jonny”, she mumbled. His mother rarely called him _Jonny_. “They don’t seem to like me for some reason.”

Jon gave his mother a quick hug and told her to sit down. He poured out her coffee and set it in front of her, along with painkillers and a bottle of water. “Here. Have this for starters. I’ve got scrambled eggs for three cooking and I’m just about to put on the toast.”

“Bless you”, she sighed in response. “Morning, Sansa.”

“Morning. Good night last night?”

“It was at the time. I think Barbs might have been dancing on a table at one point. I don’t think I was. It could’ve been worse. Hallie Mollen was throwing up in the bathroom for about half an hour before we left. If only this pounding in my head would go away.”

“It’ll go away once you drink your water and take your painkillers”, Jon reminded her. 

“Which one of us is the parent here?”

-

“Thank you again for last night – and for the ride”, Sansa told him as they approached the Stark home. Jon had insisted on driving her back after they’d finished up their breakfast and cleared away the dishes while Lyanna proclaimed her intention to take a shower in an attempt to _rejoin the human race_. 

Sansa was wearing her own clothes again and she had to admit that it had been very cosy in Jon’s rags. She liked wearing that sort of thing every so often, placing comfort above neatness or style. 

“No problem. Is seven alright for me to come over for our run?”

“Maybe eight? I know that’s going to give us quite a late finish, but it’ll give me more time to digest my dinner.”

“I can do eight.” Jon pulled into the Stark driveway and she saw his eyes drawn to her father’s car. They must have got an early start from Greywater Watch. She could well imagine her organized father being torn between wanting to spend more time visiting with Howland and wanting to make sure they got a good start in case the traffic was bad.

“I thought I’d be back first”, she murmured. Sansa unclipped her seatbelt and started to move. “I wanted to get a start on preparing the veggies for dinner.”

“I’ll see you later, then. I should get back. I think I owe Ghost a good walk and my mother some peace and quiet.”

Sansa smiled and thanked him again. She grabbed her bag, got out of the car and headed for the house, eager to hear about Bran’s trip. He’d sent her a few pictures and texts and she knew he’d been over the moon at the trip to the God’s Eye earlier on in the week. She turned quickly and waved goodbye to Jon before running into the house. 

“Hello?” she called, opening the door. Sansa closed it behind her and followed the shouts of _in here_ to the kitchen, where her parents were having coffee with Arya and Gendry. She guessed that Bran had gone to unpack the moment they’d arrived and Rickon was taking advantage of no longer being cooped up in a car for hours on end.

“There you are, darling”, said her mother, pulling her into a hug. “We wondered where you’d got to. Though we are early.”

“You know, those look a lot like the clothes you wore yesterday when we went out for lunch.” Arya had always been observant. But, then, Sansa had done nothing wrong. So why did she feel self-conscious?

“Yes. Yes, they are.”

“And…….” Arya prompted. 

“And nothing. Jon invited me over to watch Harry Potter with him and Ghost. The prequels, not the main series. By the time the second movie had ended it was after midnight and the cab firm couldn’t send a car for almost an hour.”

“So you stayed over”, Arya concluded. 

“Yes. I spent the night sleeping next to a very cuddly gentleman. Ghost does move about a bit, though, and I’m not sure I’d get used to him waking me up by licking my hand”, Sansa retorted. She wasn’t sure why she felt a little defensive. 

“Alright, alright. Peace.” Arya raised her hands in surrender. 

Sansa decided a change of subject was in order. “How was your trip? And the drive back?” She accepted a cup of tea from her father and sat down at the kitchen table next to her mother. 

“Howland and the family were well”, her father told her. “Jyana is volunteering at the local community centre and Meera is just about to start her post-grad studies at Moat Cailin. Botanical Medicine.”

“I’d forgotten that’s what she was studying. I wonder if she knows Ronnel, the admin intern.”

“She does. Meera knows him quite well, actually. She thinks he has potential to go far at Moat Cailin, but apparently his parents are trying to move him towards a more traditional career.”

“Hence the internship with us.” And Sansa thought back to him lighting up the day someone had sent Ella Whitehill, one of the junior partners, a bouquet of flowers at the office and he’d been able to tell her all about them. The extent of his knowledge had impressed Sansa but she’d thought it rude to inquire about the apparent change in interest from botany to law. She asked further about Jyana and Howland and tried hard to remember the last time she’d seen Jyana in person.

“I haven’t been to the Neck in so long”, Sansa sighed wistfully. She loved it there. The cool and damp air chased away the humidity of summer and kept out the worst of the cold in winter. And the Reeds were such a lovely family. Her father had kept up with few friends from prior to his marriage, and Howland was a definite favourite with all of them. “Perhaps I could go for a short weekend, if not this summer then another holiday.”

If WHU didn’t accept her, there was also the possibility Moat Cailin might. At least Meera would be there. But Sansa pushed those thoughts and the five days until her WHU interview from her mind. 

“I should get started on the dinner”, said her mother, standing up. 

“I had intended to get a start on things before you got back”, Sansa told her. “I just got caught up – “

“There’s no problem, Sansa. I enjoy making a good Sunday roast. Lamb today, I think. I got a good leg of it from the butcher on Friday, before we went away. You sit down. You’ve been working hard all week and I’m sure you’ve got a run planned for later on.”

“At eight.”

“How is your training coming along?” her father asked her as Arya and Gendry slipped out of the kitchen, headed no doubt in the direction of the gym. 

“Good, actually. I registered for the full 10k on Friday night. If I keep on with my training for the rest of the summer then I should make it round the course in a reasonable time.” It had been good, having a target, something constructive to aim at. “I mentioned it to Robb. I had a video call with him yesterday – he and Jeyne, actually.”

“I should call him later”, her mother sighed. 

“I’m sure he’s fine”, her father responded. 

“He is”, Sansa confirmed. “That said, I think he’s looking forward to coming home at the end of the summer. And perhaps missing some home comforts. Jeyne makes him do his own washing.”

Sansa chose not to comment on the snort that elicited from her father. 

“Sansa!” She looked up to see Bran entering the room, clutching what she recognized as his digital camera. Her parents had gifted Bran with it on his last birthday and it was a prized possession. “I brought this through to show you the pictures I took at the God’s Eye.”

She took the camera from Bran and clicked through the pictures while he commented on each one, staring at images of ancient weirwood groves and the massive lake – alongside those of Jojen and Meera making silly faces at the camera. 

“It looks stunning”, Sansa admitted when they’d run through all three or four hundred of them. She thought it lucky her parents had included multiple memory cards with the gift. Sansa was unsure how many of them Bran had already worked his way through. “I shall need to add it to my _Places to Visit_ list.”

“And Howland took us to the biggest museum I have ever seen. It was full of exhibits on the Children of the Forest and the ancient First Men. The Children truly existed, Sansa. I don’t care what Rickon says. There is archaeological evidence there of the evolution of humans. It was amazing.”

“It sounds it.” Sansa wondered sometimes how her brother’s average-sized head had space for his massive brain. “Where’s Jojen going to study? I always forget he and Arya are the same age.”

“He’s going to Moat Cailin, where Meera is, to study Social Anthropology. I wonder if I might go there.”

“I thought you wanted to study Astronomy in Oldtown?” Sansa perked an eyebrow. Bran’s desires for his future studies changed with the seasons. 

“I could do that after”, he mumbled in response. Knowing her brother, he probably could.

“Come on. Why don’t we go and sit outside and you can tell me all about this museum visit.”

The two of them went outside and sat on the terrace. Luckily the terrace was shaded from the sunshine, as the high noon sun was beaming down on them. Sansa may have grown more used to the heat after two years in King’s Landing but that didn’t mean she liked it. She glanced down at her clothes and thought she really should have gone upstairs to change – wearing the same clothes for this long in warm weather was a tad icky – but her brother was more important than that and Bran was hardly likely to care what she wore. 

“You should see the pictures I took of some of the exhibits”, Bran told her, handing over his phone. “The pictures aren’t as good as the others because I had to be a little covert.”

“By which you mean the museum had a no camera policy”, Sansa interjected wryly. Bran simply shrugged. 

“We should all be in favour of sharing culture and that is what I am doing here by showing you these pictures.”

Sansa swiped through the often blurry images of the items on display. There were weapons that must have lain buried in the ground for hundreds – more likely thousands – of years and coins that pre-dated any Sansa recognised and bits of crockery that must sometimes have sat in someone’s home and been loved and treasured. 

“It looks amazing. Did you have a favourite exhibit?”

“There was a special one we were lucky to see on the Children of the Forest at the time of the arrival of the First Men.” Bran’s face lit up even further. “It was only on for a limited time and if we’d been there a week later then we would’ve missed it. One of the staff there said it’d taken them the best part of the year to put it together. They had models of what people would’ve worn then – the First Men, I mean – and visual reconstructions of the Children of the Forest.”

“Oh, before I forget, I got a book the other day that I think you’d like. _Far North Folklore – Bards of Frostfangs and Milkwater._ I can pass it along once I’ve finished the last few chapters.” It had been written by one of the WHU lecturers for the course Sansa was applying for. 

“That sounds good. You’ve been reading more Northern books since you came back home for the summer.”

“I have.” She hadn’t been aware that anyone had noticed, but of all of her siblings she supposed Bran would be the one to do so. He seemed to notice everything.

“That’s cool.” He didn’t comment on the subject further, though, and moved on to telling Sansa about the haunted castle Howland had taken them to visit on the way home.

-

“I brought you a Monday treat”, Jon told Sansa as he set down a caramel latte and lemon muffin on her desk. Sansa grinned up at him widely. 

“Jon! You didn’t need to do that.” No, he hadn’t. But when they’d first passed each other at the copier that morning, she’d mentioned her father’s morning car problem and the delay that had meant she hadn’t the time to go to Mordane’s before work. And so Jon had gone over on his tea break. It had both given him a break from Harry’s loud boasting about the delightful blond girl he’d spent the weekend in bed with and allowed him to treat Sansa. 

If Jon was completely honest with himself then he’d admit that had Robb or Sam or any of the guys had the same misfortune, he would have sympathised but wouldn’t have done much more unless there were extenuating circumstances – like illness or bereavement, for example. But with Sansa, Jon had wanted to treat her. 

Jon had wanted that _smile_. 

“Thank you”, Sansa told him. “It was very kind of you.”

“Jon, Sansa, glad I could catch you together.” Jon forced a neutral look onto his face as he turned to face Jory. “I have a stack of files to go through and I need two _volunteers_ who work well together to help me.”

Jon guessed volunteers was a very loose term, but was pleased at the thought of working with Sansa again. She was smart, articulate and great at analysing documents. Jon didn’t know Ronnel or Robin that well and Myranda was witty and relatively intelligent, but also easily distracted. Sansa was the easiest of the four for him to work with. The best fit. 

“I’ve set up a table in the corner for you to work through them. It is for a custody case – Boggs v Quagg. We represent Ms. Boggs. The judge had a cancellation so the case hearing has been brought forward by family support representatives.”

Jon looked over at the table Jory indicated and suggested to Sansa she bring her coffee and muffin as well as her notepad and staff laptop. “I’ll give you a hand and then go for my stuff while you get set up.”

“Thanks. Jon, I know Jeor has a few things he has you working on but he’s our partner on this.” _When he’s back from his long weekend_.

“Sooner we get started the better looking at that pile of files”, Sansa commented as she gathered together her things. Jon picked up the laptop and notepad for her and started heading in the direction of Jory’s files. “Have you studied this sort of thing much?”

“A bit. To be honest, outside of the larger towns and cities there isn’t a massive call for Criminal Law. I mean, yes, there are courts everywhere, but there are only so many people up in court for breaking the law. Unless you have a police force obsessed with traffic violations, I guess.” If Jon was honest, it wasn’t an area that massively appealed to him. Public Defence work would be difficult but rewarding and Jon had considered it briefly until he’d come to the realization that it would possibly involve spending the rest of his life in White Harbour as such posts in Wintertown were so few and far between, and consequently job experience was at a premium.

Jon laid Sansa’s things down on the left hand side of the massive table. “Anyway, the lack of necessity for Criminal Law means you look for other things. Divorce, custodial battles, pre-nuptial agreements…….there’s more scope for those kind of things. 

“That sounds logical”, Sansa agreed. “Do you and Robb normally take the same courses? I’ve just realized I’ve never bothered to ask either of you.”

Jon grinned. “Mostly, yeah. General law practice requires a good grounding in everything. I did want to focus on Environmental Law for a while, but again there isn’t much call for it around here and in the long-term I don’t see myself living anywhere but Wintertown.” His only family – at least, the only family he acknowledged and who acknowledged him – was here, and Robb would be coming back to take up his role in the family firm. White Harbour was his temporary home. His near future. “And you?”

“For so long I thought I’d move to King’s Landing and never look back. Work at a publishing house, maybe. Discover new writers that I could make known throughout Westeros. Now, I definitely see the North as my future home”, she nodded. 

“You could start your own publishing house one day”, Jon suggested. “Focus solely on Northern writers.”

“Yeah, I could. Thank you, Jon.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

He considered some of her recent past and how little support Sansa had received from her peers. Jon hadn’t said it because of that, though. He’d said it because it was the truth. Sansa was smarter and more capable than she knew. But that was something they could discuss another time.

“We should get cracking.” Jon opened the first file, which consisted of statements given by their client, Ms. Boggs, on the break-up of her relationship with Mr. Quagg.

“Can I have a look?” Sansa asked. Jon shook himself and realized how engrossed he’d become in the first statement. 

“Sorry. Here, why don’t we go through it together?”

Jon skimmed over the first document and then re-read it at a slower pace. He was starting to get a bit biased in favour of his client. In a way that was a good thing – after all, it’d make him a convincing advocate for her point of view – but in another it was not. It’d make him less objective and less able to see a clear way forward. 

“It takes more than that”, Jon muttered. He knew that more than anyone. “It takes way more than that.”

“More than what?” Sansa asked. Then something seemed to click. She tilted her head to the side and her eyes became even more beautifully gentle than normal. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I know I shouldn’t let my own hang-ups get in the way, but it takes more than money to make someone a parent.” Jon lowered his voice. “A parent is someone who stays up with you all through the night when you’re sick and helps you with your Hallowe’en costume even though they’ve difficulty threading a needle. It’s someone who comes off a fourteen hour shift in which they’ve dealt with death and people and pain, and yet they will sit with you and go through verb conjunctions or the Third Blackfyre Rebellion to help with your exam revision.”

His mother had been tearful that night she’d come home in the middle of his study session after the death of a young couple in a car accident. In truth, she had told him, it was a miracle they hadn’t died at the scene. Robb had been at football practice, Jon remembered, and he’d been studying alone. In spite of – or perhaps in a way to forget – her own upsets, his mother had stayed up with him until midnight until he felt confident everything that needed to stick in his brain had done so. 

“You’re right”, Sansa told him simply. 

Jon could feel the comforting hand she placed on his forearm long after it moved to take the second file and open it. 

-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sansa asked him. They were in the same park where they’d shared hot dogs for lunch and their heart-to-heart over her desire to move back to the North. Hot dogs had once again been on the menu for lunch and Jon had just got them ice cream cones – chocolate for him and strawberry for Sansa. 

“Talk about what?” Though he had an idea what she meant. 

“This morning. The case. You seemed to take it so personally and I wondered if there was something in particular that….” Sansa stopped and indicated to Jon they should sit down on the bench. “You’ve been so amazing to me since we had that talk here. You were amazing then too. You listened and you cared. Let me do the same. It’s what friends are for, right?”

“I was listening to the radio on the drive in this morning.” Jon lowered his head and closed his eyes, thinking back to what had happened a few hours earlier. Really he should learn to put these things from his mind better; to blank out any mention of _that man_. “They were going on about that new Targaryen development down in Summerhall and some big ceremony they’re due to have in a few weeks to “officially” start things off, though I think they have actually begun. I don’t like fiddling around with radio channels when the traffic is busy in case something happens so I just sat there and listened to it. I listened to them talk about how his son and heir will be with him. I would’ve liked that. Not the money. Not to be his heir. But…….to be able to stand next to my own father in public and have people be aware we’re related.”

“Oh, Jon.” The comforting hand was back and this time Jon grasped it in his own. 

“Sorry. I totally stand by what my mother and I have done, not taking his money. If that’s all he has to give then I don’t want it. Any of it. But, I would’ve liked a father. I would’ve liked that a lot.” Then Jon told her something he wasn’t sure he’d ever admitted out loud. “I hate that I want it, too. I hate it because it makes me feel like I’m undervaluing my mother and everything she’s done for me.”

They both sat in silence for a few minutes and ate their ice creams, Sansa’s hand and his resolutely clasped together. It wasn’t until they’d both finished that Sansa spoke. 

“When we were very young, I think I was a little jealous of you.” Jon was surprised. How could Sansa feel jealous of _him_?

“Why?!”

“Bran and Rickon weren’t born yet, Arya was too young to be my playmate and you took Robb from me. You started school, both of you, and all of a sudden the only name I heard was yours. _Jon is my friend_ or _I want to play with Jon_. It felt like you were taking my brother away from me; that he’d chosen you as a sibling instead of me. But, Robb being a brother to you didn’t make him less of one to me or Arya. My mother told me that. Wanting a father doesn’t devalue what your mother did. You _want_ one. You don’t _need_ one. And that’s because she was one for you, in a way. Am I making any sort of sense here? I don’t think I am.”

“No, you are”, Jon promised her quietly. “And you’re right. That said, I do need to not react so much every time I hear his name on the news. And I cannot let it interfere with my work. It isn’t conducive to being a good lawyer for my clients.”

“Speaking of, I suppose we should get back to Boggs v Quagg and our pile of files.” Sansa stood up. “Shall we?”

-

“That’s everything I wanted. Thank you so much, both of you”, Jory told them once they’d finished with their work. “See, I came to the right people for a good job with a short turn-around. Jon, can I see you in my office in five? Jeor had some work he wanted me to pass along to you once I’d scanned through it.”

“Will do.” Jory walked off and left the two of them to return to their desks. Sansa smiled at Jon. He seemed to be in better spirits than he had earlier. She hoped that what she’d said to him in the park had helped Jon as much as all the things he’d said to her recently. Sansa would never say it to Jon, but she couldn’t help hating Rhaegar Targaryen just a little bit. How could anyone reject Jon as a son? Her own father would be proud to call him such, Sansa knew.

“Do tell what you need to do to get all the high-priority cases.” Harry’s words cut through Sansa’s thoughts. 

“Your job”, Jon responded quietly. 

“It is just that some are given more opportunities than others.” Sansa bit her lip and knew it was directed at her – and Jon to an extent. It was well known by now that he was Robb Stark’s closest and oldest friend and as such had known her father since he was very young. It wasn’t fair, though. Jory regularly gave special tasks to most of the others – he’d singled Robin out more than once, and given Edda and Erena more chances than any of the legal interns to sit in on meetings he took. 

“I should go and see what Jory wants”, said Jon. “I’ll see you later, Sansa.”

Jon walked off in the direction of Jory’s office and Sansa returned to her own desk, irritated by Harry’s outburst and keen to assure Jon at the earliest opportunity that he earned everything in his internship on merit – and Harry’s _lack_ of notice from high-ranking staff was nothing if not proof of that.

“What is Harry’s problem?!” Sansa hissed in Myranda’s direction, looking for some insight into his behaviour. If either of them had occasion to be dismissive of the other it was definitely Sansa after all it had taken at the night out for him to understand that _no_ meant _no_. And he seemed to have something against Jon as much as her. Although Sansa knew Jon couldn’t stand the sight of Harry, he had never been rude to him. 

“Jealousy. And he doesn’t wear it well either. A shame. Harry isn’t half bad looking. He wasn’t too happy with Jory partnering you off with Jon like that again. Besides, I overheard him saying to Will and Kyle that he thought there was something going on between the two of you. You have lunch together every day.”

“Jory told us to work together”, Sansa replied, focusing on that. “He thought we worked well as a team on the last project we had!” Myranda simply shrugged in response.

“And, for what it’s worth, Jon and I have known each other for years! Besides, if we are going by _having lunch together every day_ then that would suggest Will and Kyle are together as much as Jon and I are!”

“Alright, alright”, Myranda replied. She held up her hands and shook her head. “I may believe you when you say there’s nothing more than friendship between you and Jon, Sansa, but I don’t recommend being _that_ defensive if Harry ever asks. He might think you doth protest a little too much.

Sansa watched as Myranda walked away with a pile of files, in the direction of Ella Whitehill’s office. She took a deep breath and then sighed heavily, falling back onto her seat.

Sansa may have spent Saturday night sleeping in _Jon’s_ bed, wearing _Jon’s_ clothes, but she’d only ever cuddled Jon’s _dog_. Was she too defensive? Myranda certainly seemed to think so and she’d had the impression on Sunday afternoon that Arya had too. And why?

Was it because the idea was completely ludicrous – she and Jon were simply friends, people who had known each other a long time and had shared experiences over the years through his friendship with Robb.

Or, was it because maybe she might…..did Sansa…….did she _want_ it to be true?


	13. White Harbour

Sansa fidgeted nervously with the train tickets she’d collected from the machine as she waited for Jon at Wintertown station. He’d texted her after his early morning run with Ghost and again when the cab he’d ordered had arrived. A quick look at her watch told Sansa they had a little over fifteen minutes to go until the train left. Sansa had been relieved upon her arrival at the station to discover it was due to depart as scheduled. 

Standing at their arranged meeting point, close to the coffee and bakery stand, Sansa found herself unsure what she was most nervous about – her appointment at WHU or spending an entire day alone with Jon. She’d thought on and off all week about how defensive she had been to Arya and Myranda about her friendship with Jon. That and the butterflies threatening to erupt in her stomach when she was around him had pushed her towards acknowledging that there _might_ be something there. 

Or, you know, _more_ than might be.

She caught sight of a head of unruly curls walking in the entrance she expected Jon to come from and felt a smile – the first of the day – begin to grow across her face. 

“Morning.” He gave her a quick hug and Sansa wondered just when that had started to happen. When did she and Jon become friends who hugged? “Want a coffee before we board the train.”

“That sounds good”, she replied with a nod, trying to push the nervous thoughts about herself and Jon from her head. “I’m not sure if they still do, but I know that stand used to sell lemon cakes.”

Jon laughed and walked over to join the queue. “Caramel latte?”

“Just a plain latte. With the lemon cakes…..too much sugar this morning will only make me more nervous and twitchy than I already am.” She’d told her parents that she was going out for the day but not been honest about where. Her father had dropped her at the train station after she’d talked about going to visit the old castle in Cerwyn. Sansa had been there so many times it would be easy to fudge a story about the exhibits there, the lack of new things in the gift shop and the panini and soup she’d had in the café.

Sansa hated lying and she hoped she wouldn’t have to tell this one for too long. 

“What did you tell Lyanna about today?” Sansa asked. 

“That I was going to White Harbour to sort out some things for next semester, and that I was taking the train because I didn’t want to risk the car. It really is getting to be a bit of a banger, unfortunately.”

Sansa was pleased they were next. She knew Robb would only need to say to their parents that his car was getting past it and they would help him pay for a new one. It wouldn’t be _brand_ new. It would be used but in good condition. Jon, on the other hand, Sansa knew well enough would have to scrimp and save for something old but reliable. 

Jon would never begrudge Robb all he had, Sansa knew that. But still, Jon had never had things simply handed to him. All he had, he’d worked for. All he had, he’d worked _hard_ for. It was one of the things Sansa most admired in him. 

Joffrey, Marge, all those privileged lemmings she’d encountered in King’s Landing……..they’d all driven fancy new cars. Jon was the antithesis of them. Jon was so, so much better than them. 

Still, though, Sansa didn’t overly like talking about money with Jon. It made her all too aware of how privileged she was herself.

“Two lattes, two lemon cakes and two chocolate fudge brownies”, she heard Jon order. Sansa decided she’d treat them on the way home. 

Once he’d paid, they boarded the train and found themselves a table for two. As the train pulled out of the station, Sansa could feel her nerves gather again. She was still undecided how much they were attributable to the interview and how much they were attributable to spending the entire day alone with Jon.

-

Jon was relieved when their train pulled into the terminal at White Harbour on time. Not that he’d anticipated anything going wrong, but then he found that was quite often when it did. He didn’t want them to encounter anything that could throw Sansa off kilter and affect her frame of mind going into the interview. 

He wanted things to work out for her. Sansa deserved a break more than anyone.

“Here we go, then”, she told him. Jon could tell there was a strain to Sansa’s smile but it was still as beautiful as it always was. 

“Here we go”, he repeated. 

They walked out of the station to find a summer’s day as beautiful to Jon as Sansa’s smile. The sun was beaming down on them, but the coastal air kept it cool enough that Jon didn’t have to worry about sweating buckets. Jon could see there were a large number of tourists around but it wasn’t so busy that they would need to fight their way through crowds. 

“It’s this way”, he told Sansa, raising his hand to the left. Jon wished he could do something more to ease her nerves. They’d worked on answers to possible interview questions on the train on the way down, but Jon knew doing more of that now would simply fry Sansa’s brain. Instead, he pointed at a pub, _Lamprey Inn_. 

“We went there on Fresher’s Week for dinner, me and Robb. We hadn’t lived in the city before so we didn’t know the place at all. They have this Lamprey Pie, named after the pub, which is so awful words cannot describe it. I was a bit dubious but Robb insisted on trying it. We spent the night taking it in turns to throw up.”

The story did at least elicit a giggle and a less nervy smile from Sansa. 

“I take it you never went back?”

“Oh, we went back. Just not for food.” Grenn had told him once that the kitchen there was under investigation every so often by food hygiene inspectors but they never seemed to find enough evidence to warrant closing it down. 

“It always sounds to me like you and Robb have the best time here. And when I talked to Jeyne, I thought exactly the same thing.”

“We’ve had a good five years here. I think my mother was a little worried about us moving from a town the size of Winterfell to city, but White Harbour isn’t as large as somewhere like King’s Landing or Oldtown. And such a large percentage of the inhabitants during term-time are students that it feels a little like we have our own town.”

Their apartment was in the same quarter as WHU and there were numerous cafés, bars, restaurants and quirky little shops nearby in addition the multitude of scattered buildings that housed the various departments. There was a main building, however, and Jon had determined from the information Sansa had given him that her interview was there. It was where most of the general admin staff were housed.

On the way there, as well as telling Sansa the odd story about the nights out and study sessions he and Robb had enjoyed and endured, he pointed out the Law School building and the terrace of beautiful old stone houses that had been converted to hold the Arts & Social Sciences departments. As he told Sansa, it was here he had come for his lectures and tutorials at under-grad, and where the Northern Lit department was based. 

Mention of the Northern Lit department seemed to make her nervous, however, and so Jon moved the conversation back to safer ground and the legend of Warrick Manderly’s ghost, said to haunt the former library – now home to the Northern Studies department. 

Jon was pleased to see they were well within their budgeted time when they arrived at the main office entrance. 

“Here we are, then”, he told her. They hadn’t discussed anything beyond this – and their lunch at _The Wolf’s Den_ after her interview. 

“Here we are”, she echoed. Sansa turned to the glass pane and the receptionist on the other side. “Sansa Stark. I have an appointment at eleven with Marna Locke.”

Jon wrapped what he hoped was a comforting arm around Sansa’s shoulder while the receptionist checked something on her computer. He tried not to read anything into the way Sansa seemed to lean into him. Looking for comfort and reassurance, most likely. 

“Yes, I have your appointment here. I’ll buzz you in and then we’ll get you to sign the visitor book.”

“It sounds like this is where I leave you, then”, said Jon. “I’m going to go for a quick walk over to the Law Building and see if there’s anything I can pick up on our course choices for next semester. It won’t take more than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes or so. Call me when you’re done. Just remember what we talked about on the train, take a deep breath if you’re nervous.” He lowered his voice slightly. “You’re smart and you love the course – they’d be lucky to have you.”

“Thank you.” Sansa hugged him tightly. “For everything.”

Jon watched as she went through the door and hopefully on to a successful interview. If there was any true justice in the world, Sansa would be a WHU student very soon.

-

Sansa sat nervously on the bench outside the room she’d been directed to. Her watch told her there were ten minutes left until the appointment time. 

Then it told her nine.

Then it told her eight. 

Sansa tried to distract herself by going over in her head the answers to the practice questions she and Jon had gone through on the way down. She was relieved Jon had thought of such a thing. It would hopefully help her answers sound more genuine and flowing. If at all possible she had to avoid seeming stilted or lost for words. She ignored how it had made her feel to have his arm around her not ten minutes earlier.

Then her watch told her there were seven minutes left. 

Then it told her six.

Sansa fidgeted with her cardigan, placing it on her shoulders and then putting it on properly. But would that make it look like she couldn’t cope with the Northern climate after being in the South? Sansa removed the cardigan again and folded it over her arm. 

Then her watch told her there were five minutes left.

Then it told her there were four. 

And then the door opened and Sansa looked up to see a woman around her mother’s age with a kind, open face. “Sansa Stark?” 

She was so nervous that she’d blurt out there were still four minutes left by her watch that Sansa simply smiled and nodded. She stood up and followed the woman into a spacious office surrounded by bookcases filled with files and another woman – one who seemed vaguely familiar to Sansa – sitting behind a large oak desk. 

“Sansa, I’m Marna Locke and this is Harma Doghead, one of the lecturers in Northern Literature here at White Harbour. She’ll be overseeing the level three programme in the forthcoming academic year, so I’ve asked her to sit in on our discussion.”

“Nice to meet you”, said Sansa, holding out her hand for Harma. That was where she recognized her from! Harma had written the _Far North Folklore_ book Sansa had only finished reading on Monday night and her picture had been on the inside of the dust jacket. Sansa hoped this was a positive sign. 

She sat down opposite the two of them and now that she was here, in the room, with someone she knew was as passionate as she was (if not more so) about Northern literature, Sansa finally began to breathe a little easier. 

“We’ve both had a chance to review your transcripts from King’s Landing University”, began Marna. “And I know I speak for us both when I say they are impressive. Very much so, in fact. Why do you want to leave a course you are excelling at?”

Sansa thought back to Jon and the ideas they had prepared together. 

“I may have been excelling at that course, but I had fallen out of love with my study matter. I have found myself more and more over the last few months seeking out Northern literature and reading about the Northern traditions. I missed the works I had grown up with…….the old tales. And I missed home. I missed the North. I had already determined to apply to White Harbour after graduation. I’m simply bringing forward that move, that specialization.”

_They don’t have to know everything that happened to you in King’s Landing. You don’t ever have to share that with anyone. You should be comfortable and then you will be in control of the conversation. Bring it back to the course and let them see how much you care about what you’re studying._

Sansa could hear Jon’s voice in her head as Marna and Harma digested her response. 

“We don’t get a lot of transfer students halfway through the programme. There would be extra classes to cover areas you will have missed out on in the course offered by KLU – dealing with pieces written in the Old Tongue, for example. Would you be prepared for the extra work?” Harma asked. 

“I would”, Sansa nodded. “As you can see from my transcripts, in addition to my compulsory electives, I also took additional Literary courses to those mandatory ones. As such, I think I have more credits than most. I’m not afraid of hard work and I love this subject. One of the extra classes I took related to the literary works of Valyria. That also involved learning some of the basic rules of the language.”

“It can also be a big transition socially”, Marna added. “We have had transfer students who have lasted a semester or two and returned to their prior institute of learning, or left education entirely.”

“My brother is studying and living here. I have friends studying and living here, one of whom I have known for more than fifteen years.” She and Jon had only recently become close friends, but they didn’t need to know that. “I have ties here. Besides, the North has always been _home_ to me.”

“You said that you’ve been reading more Northern-focused works of late. Is there a recent piece or book you’ve read that you would like to talk to us about? One that had an impact on you, perhaps?”

Sansa liked to think she was braver now than she had been once, but even she was not brave enough to talk to Harma about her own book. Aside from anything else, she didn’t want to appear to be trying to gain favour by praising what she’d read – even if Sansa thought such praise honestly well deserved. Instead, she spoke to them about the _Bael_ book she had discovered in King’s Landing.

The _Bael_ book sparked a general conversation about Northern literature and the course Sansa wanted to transfer to. She was pleased to see the satisfied look on Harma Doghead’s face when she spoke of the reading she’d been doing on the course. Sansa hoped it would be clear to them that she was truly interested in what she would be studying. And that she wanted to come to White Harbour. 

Sansa had lost count over the last year or so of the number of times she regretted not taking Robb’s advice and discarding his pleas to join him and Jon in White Harbour instead of applying to KLU. 

“I think that is us”, Marna said finally, interjecting. Sansa realized she and Harma had been discussing literature for at least fifteen minutes. “I certainly have no further questions. Harma?”

“No, I think I have all the information I need.” Harma stood up and held out her hand. “It was lovely meeting you, Sansa.”

“And you.” She shook Harma’s hand and then Marna’s. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“You are home for the summer, I take it?” Marna asked. 

“I am.”

“Good. Well, Harma and I will review our notes and let you know early next week where your application stands.” Sansa forced the smile to remain on her face. She had known it was unlikely they would give her their decision today, but a small part of her had still hoped for it.

“I look forward to hearing from you.”

Sansa left the room and walked down the corridor, turning left and then letting out a huge sigh she’d been holding in. She’d been anticipating this meeting for weeks and now it was over. There was nothing further she could do to convince them. Early next week she would know the outcome and then she would either start buying the books she’d need or begin reaching out to Moat Cailin and other Northern places of learning. Hoping it would be the former, Sansa pulled out her phone and scrolled down to Jon’s name. 

-

Jon was delighted to see a slightly nervous looking smile on Sansa’s face when they met up in the grassy area outside the main building. She was sitting on a bench and waved at his approach. 

“I think it might have gone well. I mean, we’ll need to see, but it wasn’t awful. By chance, there was a Northern Lit lecturer sitting in on the interview and she wrote one of the books I read recently.” Sansa sighed. “Obviously I couldn’t tell her that without sounding like a fangirl but I spoke about another book and we discussed ideas and theories and writing styles. Hopefully I came across well.”

“I’m sure you did.” Jon had heard Sansa talk about books countless times. She always sounded engaged and he had seen her transcripts. They were as good as Sam’s had been and he was the smartest person Jon had ever met. 

Jon wondered when they would let her know but didn’t like to ask. 

“So….. _The Wolf’s Den?_ ”

“Sounds like a plan”, Sansa agreed. She stood up and moved next to him. “I could do with a glass of wine after that! Did you get what you were after at the Law building?”

“Yes and no. They didn’t have any additional literature above what is available on the departmental portal, but I spoke to one of the junior lecturers and he gave me a note of some Law Review articles that’ll give me a better insight into what is involved in each of the optional course modules.” Professor Glenmore was only a handful of years older than Jon and in some ways was more of a glorified TA than anything else, but he was incredibly knowledgeable when it came to coursework and Jon had sought his advice more than once in the last year. 

“Do you have long to make your choices?”

“A couple of weeks. I’ll read through what Professor Glenmore suggested and maybe speak to Erena and Edda again.” They’d come to White Harbour for Sansa’s interview, but she was taking the time to find out what _he_ had been up to. 

“I did what you suggested and kept the focus on the course. I think their main fear seemed to be the transition, but I told them I had friends here.”

“You do. You have me and Robb and Jeyne. And it won’t take long before you’ll have Sam and Gilly and Grenn and Pyp and Tormund and Edd. You won’t be able to get rid of us.”

“That sounds pretty great, actually”, Sansa replied. “Is _The Wolf’s Den_ far from here? I didn’t realize how much walking we would be doing when I put these shoes on this morning. At least they were smart.”

“We’re only going round the corner.”

“Good. If I’d not been so nervous about the interview, I would probably have thought to bring a pair of flats to change into. I’ll be fine. They just pinch a little at the side – probably because I only ever wore them at Robb’s graduation. The city is beautiful. Even if I don’t get in, I will definitely need to visit more.”

“When was the last time you were here? Robb’s graduation?” Sansa nodded. He and Robb had been in different faculties for under-grad and so had graduated on different days. Jon could vividly recall the sight of the entire Stark family surrounding Robb. Arya had made fun of him in his cap and gown, while Sansa had insisted he looked like an extra from one of the Harry Potter movies. Jon had been invited to join them for dinner after the ceremony. 

“I don’t remember too much about the city, but it is beautiful. And…I don’t know….I guess hearing you talk about the nights out and where you had classes, it brings it to life a little bit.”

Jon didn’t ask how it differed from King’s Landing. He had never been there and wouldn’t have much of an idea of places she spoke of. Mostly, however, Jon didn’t want to cause Sansa any more pain. King’s Landing had already given her far too much of that already. 

It was a short walk to _The Wolf’s Den_. The pub wasn’t as busy as it would’ve been during term-time when there was always a group of students who had a study day for their classes or a day in which their timetables were blissfully empty. He could see a few tourists and perhaps one or two locals, however. 

Jon got Sansa seated in one of the quieter areas, normally used primarily for eating at lunch time. There was a group of young men and women around his and Sansa’s age gathered around the pool tables, seemingly having a mini-tournament between them. 

“I imagined something a bit wilder than this”, Sansa admitted to him. Jon chuckled. 

“Next time, I’ll need to make sure Tormund is here. He can make the most staid and reserved of places seem a little wild. No, it’s different during term-time. Also, this is the early part of lunchtime. How about I get us a drink each and then we can look through the menus and pick out something to eat?”

“Sounds good”, Sansa agreed. “I have to admit, now that I’ve got rid of all that nervous energy I am pretty hungry.” She picked up the menu and started looking through it. Jon moved away in the direction of the bar and saw Emmett was working today. 

He ordered a glass of white wine for Sansa and an apple cider for himself. A cold glass of that filled with ice was heaven on a warm summer’s day.

“Jon Snow! How dare you come to White Harbour and not tell us!” He turned at the sound of Gilly’s voice and smiled broadly. 

“Gilly. I didn’t think to see you here.”

“That much is obvious. Sam’s just coming. He wanted to run to the bank for a moment.” Jon pulled Gilly into a hug. He hadn’t seen her or Sam in person since the semester had ended and he’d returned home to Wintertown. Phone and video calls had kept them in contact, as well as text and group chat messages. 

Jon picked up Gilly’s hand and looked at the ring she wore. It was as bright as it had looked in both the picture she’d sent him and what had been waved at him on video chat. 

“I told him he wasted too much money on it.”

“Sam wouldn’t count any money spent on you as wasted”, Jon told her. He remembered the early days of Sam and Gilly’s relationship and how nervous his friend had been. Jon couldn’t decide if Sam and Gilly were happier or more suited than Robb and Jeyne. Perhaps it was unfair to compare the two different relationships. 

“Jon!” Sam joined the two of them. “I didn’t know you’d be in White Harbour. Gilly took an afternoon off and we thought we’d treat ourselves to lunch out. You should have told us you were coming. You’ll join us, though?”

Jon turned and waved at Sansa. He could see her staring over at the three of them. She waved back, and Jon could feel Sam and Gilly’s eyes on him. 

“Your drinks.” Jon was relieved at the sound of Emmett’s voice. He thanked the man and picked up Sansa’s wine and his cider. 

“Come over and say hello. We haven’t ordered yet. And…..you should join us.” Jon led them over to the table he’d left Sansa at and introduced them, remembering that Sansa had never met Sam though he had lived in the North for five years now. “Sansa, this is Sam and Gilly.”

“Sansa?” Sam said immediately. “Robb’s sister?”

“Yes. It’s lovely to meet you both at last. I’ve heard so much about you from Jon and Robb. You’re joining us for lunch?” 

“If you’d both – if you don’t mind”, said Sam. The three of them sat down in the booth, Jon next to Sansa with Sam and Gilly opposite. He was very much aware of how intelligent Sam was and how aware of people Gilly could be. 

“I was just saying to Jon that I had no idea he was coming down”, said Sam. “I thought you would be working today.”

“Jon’s here for me”, said Sansa. “I had an appointment nearby and he volunteered to keep me company for the day.”

“Oh”, replied Sam. Jon could tell Sam was a little confused. After all, he wasn’t sure he had ever mentioned Sansa without Robb having brought her name into conversation first. 

“You are all going to need to advise me on what to order. I don’t know what’s good here”, said Sansa. “Any recommendations?”

“Their burgers are always good value”, Gilly told her. Jon saw Sansa smile at her and tried to remove from his mind the thought that they could almost be two couples out for lunch in the city. 

“I think I’ll go for a cheese burger”, Sansa decided. 

“Yeah, me too”, Jon agreed.

“Split some sweet potato fries?”

“As always.” It had become their habit to do that. “It’ll come with some coleslaw on the side. The burger, that is.” He turned to Sam and Gilly. “Have you two decided?”

“I’m going between the fish and chips and the spaghetti”, Gilly replied. 

“I’m going to run to the rest room before we order”, Sansa murmured to him. “Where is it?”

Jon pointed to the left of the bar area. “Go along the corridor and the ladies is the last door on the right.”

“Don’t go in the middle cubicle”, Gilly advised her. “The lock can be a bit dodgy sometimes.”

“Thanks.” Jon let Sansa pass and then sat down, watching until she was out of sight. When he turned back to face Sam and Gilly, he could tell instantly that he was in a whole world of trouble. 

“Hi”, said Gilly, an impish grin on her face that reminded Jon eerily of Arya.

“Um, hi”, Jon replied.

“Sansa seems very nice”, Sam put in. 

“She is.”

“How long have you known each other?” Gilly asked him. 

Jon tried to calculate how long it had been since he had started school. “Around eighteen years, I think.”

“And how long have you been watching her leave the room with big heart eyes?”

“A couple of weeks, I guess.” Jon took a long sip of his apple cider, finding it as cool and refreshing as he had hoped. Certainly it was a lot cooler – and smoother – than him. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together this summer. Working together, training for the fun race together, things like that. We’ve got to know each other a lot better than we did before.”

Gilly’s grin got a little softer. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Does Robb know?” Sam asked. Jon shook his head.

“Nor does Sansa. I didn’t realize I was so obvious.” _But I’m clearly failing badly in that area if you two were able to pick up on it_ that _quickly._

-

Sansa pushed away the remnants of the roll her burger had arrived in. In spite of being so hungry her stomach had made vocal protests, she was now stuffed full. The portion sizes were enormous and Sansa would definitely need to remember that next time. And there would definitely be a next time. Even if she didn’t end up coming here, Sansa told herself yet again that she would need to visit White Harbour again. 

She looked at Jon struggling to finish his own burger, and the massive portions of fish that remained on Sam and Gilly’s plates as they slowly worked through it. 

Sansa was almost embarrassed every time she looked at them. 

If there had been any doubts as to whether her feelings for Jon were more than friendly, they were quickly dispelled the moment she watched Gilly approach Jon and hug him tightly. She had surprised herself with the pangs of jealousy she felt towards this woman who clearly knew Jon very well – a woman he had been delighted to see. 

Sansa had never met Sam and Gilly before, but after less than an hour she was already keen to get to know them better. They were so welcoming and friendly and genuine – and Jon clearly thought very highly of them. More than once over the last few weeks, the thought had passed through Sansa’s mind that Jon was the antithesis of Joffrey. Now the thought passed through her mind that Gilly and Sam were the antithesis of Margaery and Janos and Meryn and the rest of the so-called friends she’d made during her relationship with Joffrey. 

“I can’t eat anything else”, she sighed. 

“Yeah, the portions here can be a killer first time round”, Gilly agreed. “You need to skip breakfast and really make it your only meal of the day. Good value. I do like the fish – we get it pretty fresh living in a port city.”

“How are you both enjoying your internships?” Sam asked. Sansa thought it sweet of him to include her rather than simply ask Jon. 

“We’ve been able to get involved in some interesting cases, haven’t we?” Jon said. Sansa nodded in agreement. “I haven’t made it to court yet, but Jeor – the partner mentoring me – has a case he’s working on at the moment due before a judge soon. I’m hopeful. And a couple of the other interns go here, so I’ve been able to ask their advice on next semester’s courses.”

“Jon’s one of the hardest working interns there.” Sansa could see the tips of his ears turn red at that. “What? It’s true! Jory wouldn’t give you as much interesting work and extra projects if he didn’t value you or think you worked hard.”

It was true. However she felt about Jon – and, she was coming to understand she had _many_ feelings where he was concerned – Sansa knew him and she knew Jory. Jon was being singled out because he was capable and worked hard. He earned every single compliment he got. 

“Are you interested in following in Robb and Jon’s footsteps, Sansa?” Sam asked her. She shook her head.

“I love my books too much. No, I think publishing is the field for me. Jon told me you’ve just qualified as a teacher?”

“Yes – starting at West White Harbour High next month. I did some of my training there and the staff are friendly. It is a bit of a rough area of the city by reputation, but there are some very intelligent young people I think can really go far. And it isn’t as rough as some people think it is, to be honest.”

“Sam is an eternal optimist”, Gilly told her.

“Only because you helped me become one”, Sam replied. 

-

“We should really get going”, said Jon. His watch read two thirty and their train left in less than an hour. They still had to get back to the station and get a coffee and cake to take on board with them. He had been looking forward to spending the day alone with Sansa, but meeting Sam and Gilly so unexpectedly had been a lovely surprise and it had given him no end of pleasure to see the woman he had feelings for getting along so swimmingly with two of his best friends. 

Even if they had clocked his feelings for Sansa in about two seconds flat. 

Jon would need to keep an eye on how he was around Sansa. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, which was definitely a possibility if she didn’t feel the same as he did. He also didn’t want to give Harry sodding Hardyng an excuse to make trouble for Sansa – or for him. At the same time, though, he wanted to tell her how he felt. He just didn’t know how wanted his words would be. 

And how might Robb feel about it?

“It feels like you only just got here”, Sam told him. “It’s been great seeing you in person, in any case, and meeting Sansa.”

“It’s been lovely meeting both of you and putting faces to the names I’ve heard so many times”, Sansa replied. She gathered up her things while Jon hugged Sam and Gilly farewell and promised to be in touch again in a few days for a chat before they were due to travel north next weekend, in order to visit one of Gilly’s elder sisters and her daughter. 

As soon as they left _The Wolf’s Den_ , Sansa began telling him how much she had liked Sam and Gilly. It brought a smile to his face to hear her chatter away about how friendly they had been. Jon knew that after what had happened to her in King’s Landing it was entirely possibly Sansa might trust a little less and be warier of new people, but she had taken to Sam and Gilly like a duck to water. But, then, Jon didn’t know how anyone could meet Sam and Gilly and _not_ like them. 

Jon heard Sansa’s phone ping. She opened it up and then leaned into him, showing Jon the notifications. “Look – Sam and Gilly added me on Facebook! I cut out everyone bar you, Theon and the family ages ago. I thought it should be for people I truly had time for.”

Jon smiled again as he saw Sansa click the button to accept Sam’s request and then Gilly’s. 

-

On Monday morning, Sansa made sure to keep her phone on her desk on silent. _Early next week_ did not necessarily mean first thing on Monday morning, but when that call from Marna _did_ come through, Sansa wanted to make sure she wouldn’t miss it. 

The call didn’t come through in the morning, though, and Sansa tried not to feel too down about it as she and Jon took an early lunch so he could be back in time for a meeting Jeor had scheduled in on the Boggs case. 

It was a little after noon and the streets were busy as they headed to the book store and the café that sold what Jon had once told her was a mean ciabatta. Sansa thought she might have the lemon chicken and pesto one. Taking her phone off silent had been a matter of routine, of habit – and one Sansa was grateful for when, as she grabbed a table for them while Jon placed their order, it begun to ring. 

Sansa took in a deep breath at the sight of the White Harbour number lighting up her phone. 

_This was it._

“Hello, this is Sansa Stark”, she answered, hoping her voice did not betray the nerves she felt. 

“Afternoon, Sansa. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call earlier. It’s Marna Locke here, from White Harbour University."

“Hi Marna.” Please, please, please.

“Just a quick call – I’ll follow up with more information for you by e-mail – but I wanted to let you know that both Harma and I would be delighted for you to join the Northern Literature course next semester.” It felt to Sansa as if her heart was about to jump through her throat and out onto the table in front of her.

“Thank you”, she managed to gasp out.

“I will e-mail you all the admin bits and pieces that need done - including a formal offer that you’ll need to accept and return to us as soon as possible – and Harma will then forward you the necessary course materials and details on the areas you’ll need to make up time on, as we mentioned during the interview. We look forward to seeing you, Sansa. Many congratulations."

“I look forward to it too.” Sansa ended the call and took a few deep breaths.

“Is everything alright?” Jon asked. She vaguely took in the tray he was setting down on the table. Sansa beamed up at him.

“I got in! I got in, Jon. That was Marna Locke calling. I got in to the course at White Harbour!"

“Sansa, that’s fantastic!” Jon exclaimed. He pulled her into a tight hug and she sunk into his arms. “I am so, so, so pleased for you. You absolutely deserve it!"

Sansa didn’t want to think about how natural it had seemed to tell Jon first. Instead, she turned her thoughts to how she was going to tell her family. She’d got in. This was a done deal. And now she had to tell them she was moving back North. 


	14. Family Time

Sansa carefully set her knife and fork down on her empty plate. Lasagne was one of her favourite dinners but she had spent most of the meal focusing on what was to come after it rather than enjoying her food. Logically Sansa knew her parents had always been supportive of her and her choices, but that didn’t stop the quiet but persistent voice in the back of her mind telling her they’d be disappointed in her. 

She listened vaguely to the chatter going on around her. Arya talking about her day coaching kids fencing at summer day camp. Bran discussing the book Meera recommended he borrow from the library. Rickon and his pleas to be allowed to go to a drag race over the weekend. Normally she would involve herself, back up Rickon by suggesting one of the rest of them go along, or asking if Arya had a favourite student or questioning Bran about the book. Tonight, however, she was oddly silent and she could tell by the concerned looks her parents were alternately sending her that they knew something was up. 

Sure enough, as the meal came to an end, her siblings disappeared one at a time. Rickon had arranged to spend the evening gaming online with a friend. Arya was heading over to Gendry’s to spend the night. Bran wanted to get back to the book she’d lent him. And so, it was just the three of them. Sansa pushed her nerves to the side, remembered the excited, congratulatory hug Jon had given her, and let out a deep breath.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart? You’ve been very quiet tonight”, her mother said. Both her parents sat opposite her at the table and it reminded her a little of an interview. Sansa stifled the nervy surge of laughter bubbling up in her throat. 

“It is, but I do have something to tell you both.” Sansa took in another deep breath and then let it out. _This was it._ “I didn’t go to Cerwyn on Friday. I went to White Harbour. I went there because I had an interview for a course there. To – to transfer. They called today to confirm that I got in.”

There. That was it. Done. She had said the words and it felt so, so freeing to tell her parents that she was moving back to the North. Sansa looked at the two of them exchange a look. 

“But, I thought you loved that course in King’s Landing.” Her mother sounded a little confused. 

“I did.” Sansa started fidgeting. There was so much she had kept inside for so long. So much that nobody save Jon knew. And he didn’t know everything. “I know I made such a fuss about moving down there…..but I missed the North. I missed all of you. I missed – we only ever studied _Southron_ pieces and traditions.”

“But why didn’t you say something before now? Your father and I would be proud of you no matter where you studied.”

“I wanted to make sure I could get in first. When I went for the interview…..the questions they asked me……they seemed to be unsure about transfer students in general. I think they thought the shift would be disruptive. And don’t say you could have spoken to Chancellor Manderly. I know he’s an old friend but I wanted to get in on merit. In King’s Landing, it feels like a lot of the time merit has nothing to do with how the world there works.”

“Sansa, I don’t ever want you to think you can’t share something with your mother or I. You are right, I could have spoken to Wyman. But I respect that you wanted to get in because of your intelligence alone. We supported your application to KLU because it was what you wanted. We will support your transfer because it is what you want – though, I won’t lie and say it doesn’t make us both very happy that you’ll be closer to home.”

“I’m sorry you went through all this without one of us there to support you.” Her mother leaned over and grasped Sansa’s hands in her own. “But, you had someone at least? Arya, or one of your brothers? One of your friends from King’s Landing?”

Sansa nodded. She still wasn’t ready to tell her mother that she didn’t actually have any friends in King’s Landing other than her roommate Mya, and even then Sansa wasn’t sure they’d ever see each other again.

“Jon came to White Harbour with me. He sort of found out by accident. There was a printout from the WHU website about the course that he came across and asked me about. When I told him about the interview, he offered to come down with me for the day. He’s been pretty great about it actually.” 

Friday had been incredibly stressful but Jon had kept her anxiety about the interview from getting out of control. And then their unexpected lunch with Sam and Gilly had been fantastic – it had been just what she needed to decompress, as well as reassuring her that White Harbour would be so, so different from King’s Landing. Sansa hoped she and Jon had many more lunches with Sam and Gilly to come. Both of them had already messaged her on Facebook over the weekend, saying they hoped to see her in person again soon.

“Jon?” Her mother sounded a little surprised. After all, they hadn’t spent much time together before this summer. “Oh. I - ”

“Jon’s been a really good friend to me”, Sansa broke in, emphasising the word _friend_ , certain her mother’s mind was heading for a conclusion Sansa could only hope for. “And if I’m going to be staying with him and Robb in White Harbour then its good I’ve had a chance to get to know him better recently.”

“I wonder if that apartment is big enough for next year”, said her father. “I mean, for two people living there full-time it is certainly spacious enough.”

Maybe Sansa wasn’t the only Stark waiting for Robb to announce he and Jeyne were moving in together. 

“We can discuss that with Robb when he comes home. That’s only a few weeks away. I take it your brother doesn’t know you’ll be moving to White Harbour? I wonder if Jon hinted anything to him.”

“No, he didn’t.” Sansa was sure of that. Jon was her friend and maybe it was a little naïve of her given what had happened in the past, but Sansa felt instinctively that she could trust him. They’d both shared things they found it hard to talk about openly and Sansa couldn’t imagine Jon telling Robb anything she had explicitly or implicitly asked him to keep to himself. “Jon wouldn’t do that.”

“Why don’t you go and call your brother now?” her father suggested. “I’ll help your mother with tidy-up. You can tell Robb about your move to White Harbour and ask about the trip to Fair Isle.”

That sounded like a really great idea. 

Sansa hugged her parents tightly and went upstairs to her bedroom. While she waited for Robb to respond to her message on the family WhatsApp group asking if he was free for a quick video chat, Sansa clicked open the messaging icon and sent one to Jon. If anyone deserved to hear how telling her parents had gone, it was him. 

_News is out there now. Went well. Waiting for Robb to answer my video chat request. Cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done for me._

Sansa allowed her mind to drift back to the assumption she thought her mother had been making about her friendship with Jon. After Friday, Sansa had been forced to admit that she was in complete and utter denial if she thought her feelings for Jon were simply that of a mere friend. But admitting it to herself and admitting it to someone else were two completely different things. 

Her phone pinged and Sansa felt her heart leap at the sight of Jon’s name. 

_You did all the hard stuff, not me. Ned and Catelyn are great. Robb is going to be v. excited._

Before Sansa could respond to him, her laptop lit up because Robb was calling her on video chat. She took in the tired but happy face of her elder brother and grinned back at him. 

“How was Fair Isle?” she asked. “The hotel looked amazing from the link Jeyne sent me.”

“Fair Isle was great. So was the hotel. We got to spend a lot of time in the Faircastle ruins. You and Bran would’ve loved that. It rained a lot of the time but that didn’t really matter. Jeyne borrowed her brother’s camera and took a ton of pictures. She’s going to put them in an album on Facebook or upload them to Instagram so you can see them all.”

“How is everything going down there?”

Robb hesitated. “Work is good. I do think that having a base knowledge of the difference between our legal system and how it all works in the South will be useful. And I’m getting to spend the summer with Jeyne.” 

Jeyne’s family was still an issue, then. 

“How are things going up there?”

“So, I have news. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me next semester.”

“Did you apply for an exchange program? I didn’t think they did those between KLU and WHU.”

“I applied for a transfer. A permanent transfer. I’ll have some modules I need to do catch-up on because they apply to the last two years of the Northern Lit course and my credits from KLU can’t be used to cover them. I had an interview on Friday and they called today to let me know I got in.”

“Jeyne! Jeyne, come here!” Sansa giggled at the sight of Robb punching the air triumphantly and shouting for his girlfriend to come through. He seemed to be in their bedroom and given the time, Sansa assumed Jeyne was preparing dinner. 

A moment later, Jeyne appeared on screen. “What is it? I was on the phone to the pizza delivery place. Oh, hey Sansa! How are you?”

“Sansy’s moving to White Harbour next semester”, Robb told her. Sansa loved her brother and how happy he seemed to be right now. “She’s going to come live with us.”

Sansa hadn’t mentioned living arrangements but it did not escape her notice that Robb had said _us_ rather than _me_. Had he asked Jeyne to move in already? Sansa thought it on the cards – they were so ridiculously loved up after all, and they’d been living together down in Lannisport. Why wouldn’t they live together in White Harbour?

“ _Us_? Care to share, big brother?”

The tips of Robb’s ears reddened slightly and he coughed. “You got that, huh? I was going to talk to Jon about it because I thought he was the only person who would be – anyways, yes. Jeyne is moving in with me next semester. So, you won’t be the only one exasperated by my regular failure at laundry.”

“I’m looking forward to not being outnumbered, Sansa. We’ll have lots of fun, I promise”, said Jeyne. She turned to Robb. “Poor Jon, though. For the last few years he’s only had you to put up with, and now there’ll be four of us in the apartment.”

“I think he’ll be alright with it.” Sansa wasn’t ready to tell Robb that she had feelings for his best friend. But she did want him to know Jon was becoming important to her. “Jon came down to White Harbour with me. He sort of – it’s a long story, but Jon found me with a course printout at work one day and when I told him about the interview, he offered to come.”

“Yeah, he told me you’ve been hanging out a little”, Robb nodded. “And going running. That’s good. Arya thinks of him as another brother. So do I. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t too.”

“I think we’ll stick with friend rather than brother”, Sansa managed to say. She was not going to see Jon as a brother, no matter what her own said. Sansa glanced to her bedside cabinet and thought of the vibrator in her drawer. Yeah, when Sansa used that it would be very helpful to never, ever consider Jon her pseudo-brother. 

“What did Arya say when you told her?”

“I haven’t. Not yet. She’s next, though. I’ll call her once we’re done. Arya’s over at Gendry’s tonight.”

“Wow. I’m so, so excited, Sans. What made you decide to do it?”

“The North is so much better than the South”, she murmured. “I missed home and I wanted to study _Northern_ literature and literary traditions.”

She couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Robb the whole truth either. It would break her brother’s heart to think she’d gone through what she had with none of them standing beside her. Besides, Robb was in Lannisport, not too far from where Joffrey’s family lived. She didn’t want him getting into trouble with the police.

-

“I don’t want to cook and I’m not in the mood for takeout”, his mother announced as Jon flopped back on the sofa next to Ghost. He was still in his work clothes, but the dog didn’t seem to care about that and nudged himself into Jon’s side. 

“Thank the gods old and new for lint roller”, Jon murmured into Ghost’s fur. “ _The Three Dogs_? They don’t do reservations, it isn’t far in the car, and Ghost is welcome.”

“ _The Three Dogs_. We should do this more often, you know. You aren’t at home for long – not really – and we should be making the most of it more than we are. And it’ll be my treat. Sort of. I have a bit of a favour to ask.”

“What?” Jon asked suspiciously. His mother rarely tried to butter him up before asking a favour.

“It can wait until later. Are you changing before we go?” Jon nodded and headed upstairs to change into a pair of faded black jeans that were now grey jeans and an old _Direwolves_ t-shirt. He smiled as he put it on and thought of Sansa’s jokes. This was a band t-shirt. 

When he ran downstairs, his mother was ready and it was around a five minute drive to _The Three_ _Dogs_. Jon was liking the country-ish pub more and more each time they visited. There was a good, friendly atmosphere, the food and beer were both good, and Ghost was welcome. The pub even had a small menu for dogs that featured a variety of highly respected brand choices. 

It was a beautiful warm evening and Jon insisted on sitting outside as they had done on their previous visits. The beer garden was large enough that there was space between tables – Jon supposed it had to be with all the canines that ended up underfoot when it was busy – and this evening it was shaded by a canopy. He wondered if he might bring Sansa here for lunch. The two of them could come along with Ghost and have a lazy Saturday lunch. 

Jon thought he would like that very much. 

He wondered how Sansa’s own dinner was progressing. She’d been so excited to hear from WHU although in his admittedly biased opinion, Jon had thought it impossible for there to be any other outcome. If they hadn’t accepted Sansa’s transfer application then who would they have accepted one from? But he knew she was nervous about telling her parents. 

_Wish me luck._

Jon didn’t think she needed luck, but when they’d parted for the day, he had given it to her anyway. He saw how Ned and Catelyn Stark were with all of their children and Jon couldn’t envision them being anything less than ecstatic about the prospect of Sansa returning to the North. White Harbour wasn’t Wintertown but it was a damn sight closer to home than King’s Landing. 

“Earth to Jon? Hello? Are you joining me for dinner in spirit and mind as well as in body?” Jon righted his thoughts and apologized to his mother. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Good, I mean. Today was very busy.” It had been a busy one and Jon was pleased about that – he was discovering more and more about the practical uses of what he’d spent the last year learning in class. This afternoon he’d been permitted to sit in on meetings Mormont had with clients, including Ms. Boggs. 

“I have to say, after all the work you put in the last five years, I’m very happy you’re enjoying it so much at Ned’s place. I’d hate to think of you working as hard as you have only to discover that actually you made the wrong choice and you’ve got to start all over again.”

“Even if I didn’t enjoy it, I’d be working towards a good, steady, well-paid career”, Jon pointed out. But he completely understood her point. If you didn’t enjoy going to work in the morning, then the day lasted a lot longer and every setback was even more of a problem; every success a little less of a high. 

And Jon had seen for himself recently with Sansa’ predicament the unhappiness that can fester.

“Come on, let’s decide what to get”, said Jon. He handed one of the menus to his mother and took another for himself – along with the dog menu. They could get Ghost something too. Jon skimmed his until he came across the spiced lamb and decided he didn’t need to read any further. “I’m going to have the lamb. How about you?”

“Ooooh, decisions, decisions. I think I’ll go for the chicken pasta bake. Beer?”

“Berry cider. I’ll just have the one drink so I can drive us back.” Jon indicated the dog menu. “I think the lamb for Ghost as well as me.”

Ghost barked when she moved away and not for the first time it struck Jon how good Ghost would be for his mother when he went back to White Harbour at the end of the summer. Although she had her work and her friends, he did worry sometimes about her going home alone at the end of the day. Ghost would be a companion for her.

“She’ll be back in a minute, boy”, Jon told the dog. He patted Ghost fondly. When he was older and on manageable hours, he’d get a dog of his own.

Jon’s phone buzzed with an incoming message and he saw immediately it was from Sansa.

_News is out there now. Went well. Waiting for Robb to answer my video chat request. Cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done for me._

Jon had never doubted the conversation Sansa needed to have with her parents would go well and he told her so.

_You did all the hard stuff, not me. Ned and Catelyn are great. Robb is going to be v. excited._

When all the Starks knew, Jon would ask Sansa if he could pass on the news to Sam and Gilly – both of whom had been in contact with him multiple times over the weekend, telling him how much they had liked Sansa. Jon knew they’d be pleased to hear that they would soon be able to see Sansa more often and get to know her better – and that Sansa felt the same way about Sam and Gilly. 

“One berry cider. One beer for me.” His mother bent down. “And one bowl of water for Ghost.”

“Cheers.” Jon clinked his glass with the bottle of Queenscrown Ale his mother had bought. “So tell me more about this favour you need to ask me. It must be bad if you want to treat me to dinner first.”

“Tease”, she replied with an eye roll. “It actually isn’t that bad. I just put your name down as a volunteer for the fundraising open day we have at the hospital on Sunday. It’s an all day long sort of thing and then there’s the clean-up afterwards. You don’t mind, do you?”

Jon shook his head. In truth he’d forgotten about the annual fundraiser. Jon normally went along and bought some home baking and raffle tickets before he took his turn at some of the funfair style stalls with prizes.

“Thank you. They’re short on volunteers this year for some reason and I’m working most of the day. It was impressed on those of us in management roles that we should be at the forefront of the event, so…..”

“I’ll re-arrange my training session with Sansa for Saturday if she doesn’t have anything planned for then.” It struck Jon that he and Sansa could continue being running buddies when they went back to White Harbour. That thought brought a smile to his face. 

Jon wondered if he was being as insufferably gooey as Robb had been in the days after he’d met Jeyne at that Hallowe’en party.

-

They left _The Three Dogs_ earlier than Jon had anticipated. As soon as they had finished their meals, his mother announced her desire to leave. It wasn’t until they were back in the car that Jon remembered the next batch of new _Down in Dorne_ episodes had dropped on Netflix the day before. 

A couple of streets away from their cottage, Jon’s phone began to ring. He wondered if it was Sansa and decided not to leave it for the voicemail to pick up. “Could you get that for me, please?”

“Hello? This is Jon’s phone.” Jon rolled his eyes at her faux-sultry voice. He could just hear Robb’s response.

“This is Robb.”

“Robb? Well, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Who is this?” Jon had to stifle laughter as his mother silently shushed him. 

“Who do you want it to be?”

“What?”

His mother caved and laughed. “Hey, Robb, it’s Lyanna.”

“Tell him that I’ll call back when we get home. Just find out if he wants video or audio”, said Jon. He’d be headed upstairs anyway to escape the dramatics of _Down in Dorne_. His mother repeated that to Robb, told Jon to do a video call and then hung up. 

“Sorry, I just felt like messing with him a little. How is Robb, anyway?”

Jon turned the corner into their street. “Good. He and Jeyne were over on Fair Isle for the weekend. Just a couple of nights.”

Jon doubted, however, that Robb was calling to tell him about what Faircastle had been like. No, Robb was most likely calling him after having spoken to Sansa and discovered that his sister was transferring to WHU. He bit his lip, unsure what he should say to Robb. Sansa was his friend and he’d promised anything she told him would remain between the two of them. At the same time, Robb was his friend and Jon didn’t want to outright lie to him. 

He would need to let Robb take the lead and hopefully find out what Sansa had told him. Jon was certain if there was something Sansa desperately wanted kept from Robb then she would have let him know not to mention it. 

Jon pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. “I’ll take Ghost out for a walk in an hour or so.”

“Thank you. I intend to spend the rest of the evening in front of the TV.” Jon rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know. You don’t like _Down in Dorne_ or any of my other _reality trash shows_. I still maintain, however, that they are an interesting sociological and psychological and cultural study in Modern Westeros.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have introduced you to Jeyne.”

His mother and Ghost followed Jon into the cottage. While they settled themselves on the sofa, he headed upstairs to his bedroom and booted up his laptop. His phone battery ran down quickly when he used it for video calls. They were due to be paid at the end of the week and Jon wondered if he might use that as an opportunity to get a new phone. His contract wasn’t up for another ten months or so and it couldn’t hurt to invest in a basic model that didn’t eat through battery the way this one did. 

He hated himself a little for it, but part of Jon had hoped that Robb would want an audio call rather than a video one. After Sam and Gilly had rumbled his growing feelings for Sansa in three seconds flat, he was a little nervous about speaking to her elder brother about her. Would Robb simply see it in his face?

He scrolled down his list of contacts and pressed the dot next to Robb’s name. It only took a few seconds for Robb to answer and the screen loaded with a picture of Robb’s face. Jon waved at him and saw Jeyne come into the picture. 

“Pizza’s here! Hey, Jon.”

“Hey. I can call back later if you’re just having your dinner”, he offered. 

“Nah, it’s fine”, Robb replied. “We were just on with Sansa. She told us that you know about her transfer. How amazing is it? She’ll be back where she belongs, in the _North_. We’re all going to have so much fun next year!”

“As you can see, Robb isn’t overly pleased about the situation”, Jeyne put in. “Gods, but this pizza is to die for. Sorry – someone mentioned this particular place at work today and I’ve been craving it ever since.”

“Like that time you told Robb and I about the Tyroshi place at the pier and we had to go out at eleven at night to get some?” Jon recalled that night well. He’d groaned at the time but the ten minute walk there and back in the pouring rain had totally been worth it. 

“That Tyroshi food was melt-in-your-mouth good”, Jeyne agreed. “We’ll need to take Sansa with us the next time we go.”

“Yeah, speaking of the four of us, I was – I mentioned to Sansa that Jeyne will be moving in with us after the summer.”

“Really?” Jon grinned. That was the least surprising news he’d been given in a long time. “You shock me.”

“We aim to shock, surprise and stun. We’ve decided it’s our motto”, Jeyne informed him through a mouthful of pizza. “Where’s your cute little pup?”

“Downstairs watching _Down in Dorne_ with my mother.”

“Oooh, I’d forgotten the new episodes had just dropped. I’ll need to watch it later.”

“Listen, I just wanted to thank you for Sansa – she said you went to White Harbour with her on Friday. I know I asked you to look out for her – “

“I didn’t go because you asked me to look out for her. I went because she’s my friend.” Jon never wanted Sansa to feel like she was some sort of obligation, a promise he’d made to her brother to look out for her. She had proven to him over and over again with what she’d endured in King’s Landing that she was capable and brave. And she’d made her way into his life and Jon wanted to keep her there. Sansa was his friend – one he hoped might someday be more than his friend – and Jon had gone to White Harbour for _her_ and not for Robb.

“Yeah, I know you’ve been hanging out.”

“We have. And we get on. We actually have more in common than I ever thought we would. She’s my friend Robb and I do friend things for her – like going with her to an appointment I know means a lot to her.”

“I told her you’re like my brother and I know Arya thinks of you the same way.”

“Sansa’s not my sister”, Jon blurted out. “She’s a friend – a really great friend – but she’s not my sister.”

So much for trying to keep his feelings in check. He could see Jeyne’s eyebrows raised and knew if Jeyne had him figured out then Robb would be in the loop pretty soon. 

“Okay”, said Robb. 

Jon decided to change the subject and asked about their trip to Fair Isle. Jeyne leapt on to the topic and told him all about the ruins. Jon had always loved history, stories of past battles and heroes had filled his childhood, and that had driven him to study the subject for under-grad. It had also helped that the skills required in the course would be useful when he moved into his legal studies. Listening to Jeyne talk about the history of the old castle there and the stories of it being haunted by the ghost of Elissa Farman made him want to go there himself one day. 

He wondered if Jeyne had told Sansa about the trip. 

-

Sansa had a spring in her step when she walked into the office on Tuesday morning. Her parents – her entire family, really – had been ecstatic to hear of her return to the North. And, when she’d updated her Facebook account to reflect the change, both Sam and Gilly had left her congratulatory messages, the latter asking her to promise she’d come to their engagement party and make time for another lunch when she moved down. 

It was so, so different from what she had experienced in King’s Landing and Sam and Gilly were such lovely, welcoming people. 

“You’re in a good mood today”, Myranda commented. “You do realize that it’s Tuesday, not Friday?”

“I do”, Sansa replied. She set her bag underneath her desk and started perusing the files she hadn’t quite finished off going through the day before. 

It was as if a mammoth weight had been lifted from her shoulders and Sansa hadn’t quite realized how much it had affected her until it wasn’t there anymore. She’d slept better last night than she had in a very long time. After speaking to Robb and then Arya and then Bran and Rickon, she had spent the remainder of the evening going through the admin Marna Locke had e-mailed her. Sansa had sent back the forms and was looking forward to hearing from Professor Doghead. 

She smiled at the memory of Bran’s awestruck reaction to hearing she’d met the writer of the book she had loaned him. The book he was currently reading. _That sounds awesome, Sansa. I can’t wait to be old enough to go somewhere like White Harbour_.

“So, spill. Did something happen between you and pretty boy?” Sansa rolled her eyes at Myranda’s description of Jon. “What?! He _is_ pretty. And you two are joined at the hip.”

“If that were true, then he would be over here just now and able to cringe at everything you’ve just said. No, nothing happened between us.” _Though, I have to admit that I really, really want it to_. “I had applied for a transfer to WHU and I found out yesterday that I had been accepted.”

“But weren’t you in King’s Landing?” Sansa nodded. “How can you give up all those shops and nightclubs and fashion shows and everything for a Northern port city?!”

“Very easily.” Sansa set aside the file she held in her hand and picked up the one relating to the Knott case. 

“I was speaking to a few of the others yesterday and we get our first pay of the summer on Friday. The rest of us are going to celebrate it with a few drinks, if you and pretty boy want to come along? I think he’d be more likely to accept an invitation coming from you than me.”

Sansa thought back to the last night out and did not want another night out with Harry Hardyng. He could be unbearable at times, making snide comments about her or Jon. On the other hand, she really liked everyone else and knew she shouldn’t let one person’s attitude change that or stop her from spending time with them. 

“I guess I could come out for a few drinks”, she compromised. “And I’ll ask Jon for you.”

Myranda clapped her hands. “Fantastic! We’re meeting at _Eastwatch_ at seven thirty.”

“I’ll speak to Jon at lunchtime. He hasn’t mentioned any weekend plans to me that I can recall. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get copies of these depositions to everyone working on the case and then I’ve a day of transcribing audio recordings to look forward to.”

Sansa headed for the copier and thought over the prospect of a night out. At least Jon would – hopefully – be there. It would be a good opportunity to get to know everyone a bit better. Sansa thought perhaps she’d missed out on that a little when they’d gone out for Arra’s birthday. 

And Jon would – hopefully – be there. 

Sansa wondered how she could possibly begin to tell Robb about her feelings for his best friend.

-

Jon was leaving Mormont’s office with the intention of heading almost straight out for lunch with Sansa when Ned cornered him. He was a bit nervous when Ned asked if he could have a word. Had Jeyne spoken to Robb about how glaringly obvious it was that Jon had feelings for Sansa? Did all the Starks know now?

Gods, but Arya would tease him to the Summer Isles and back when she found out.

“I just wanted to thank you”, Ned told him. Jon was perplexed and it must have showed. He couldn’t think of any contribution he’d made at the office that warranted Ned singling him out like that. “Sansa told Cat and myself that you went to White Harbour with her on Friday. If she didn’t have any of us with her, then I’m pleased it was you. The two of you have become good friends and I think Sansa needed that more than she would admit.”

“It wasn’t a big deal. I’m just pleased that the admissions people at White Harbour saw how smart Sansa is.”

“I just wanted to say it was appreciated. You’re doing well here too, Jon. It has been noted more than once by those you are working with.”

He managed to murmur out his thanks to Ned and went to grab his phone and wallet. Sansa had suggested lunch at Mordane’s and Jon couldn’t wait for it. He’d overslept that morning and not had time to eat a more extensive breakfast than a couple of slices of toast. 

“You ready?” he asked Sansa. 

“Definitely.” She quickly tidied up her desk and picked up her bag. 

“Enjoy your lunch”, Myranda chimed in. There was something in her tone that confused Jon slightly. Jon waited until they were out of the office to ask Sansa what it had been about. 

“I’ve to ask what your plans are for Friday night. Myranda is organizing a night out to celebrate our first pay.” 

Jon was torn between hatred of a busy night out with people he (mostly) didn’t know very well and the prospect of a night out with Sansa. 

“Are you going?”

“Yes, I am. I know what happened last time, but I can’t let Harry and the past memories he invoked win. Why shouldn’t I spend an evening with you and people I want to get to know better just because Harry makes comments about us behind our backs?”

“Good. And yes, I will come.”

He then told Sansa about his Sunday being commandeered by the event at the hospital, realizing as he did so that his vague thoughts about going for a run on Saturday rather than Sunday wouldn’t come to anything. Not after a night out on Friday.


	15. Cherry Chap Stick

Jon give Ghost a farewell pat and jogged out to the cab. Once settled, he sent off a quick message to Sansa letting her know that he was on his way. They’d both come to the conclusion that there was safety in numbers on a night out and given what he’d heard about Myranda planning on cocktails while she got ready, Jon figured this would be a heavy one drinks wise. He and Sansa had gone to Gage’s for lunch and lined their stomachs.

His phone pinged with a message from Sansa. 

_Good. That’s me ready – wasn’t sure I was going to make it in time! See you soon._

It was followed by a smiley face. Jon swallowed. He hoped not to get _too_ drunk tonight. In wine there was truth, or so some old Valyrian saying went. Jon did NOT want to get soppy drunk (a periodic tendency he seemed to have inherited from his mother) and blurt out to Sansa that he had feelings for her. Sansa deserved that to happen when he was sober and in full possession of his faculties.

Saying something to Sansa was complicated, though. If she didn’t feel the same then not only were they close friends now, but they were running buddies and co-workers until the end of the summer – and then they’d be living together, along with Robb and Jeyne. Jon didn’t want to make things awkward. 

And then there was the complication of Robb himself. Jon knew after what had happened in King’s Landing that Robb was more protective of Sansa than ever before, and the prospect of her starting to date again would probably have him shitting kittens. 

The cab pulled into a street a couple of minutes away from the Stark property and Jon messaged Sansa to let her know. It was quarter past seven and they were due to meet up with everyone else in fifteen minutes. Robin had been on sick leave for the last couple of days, but the rest of the interns would be present. 

Jon hoped Myranda and Harry would keep a respectful distance tonight. He had more confidence in the former doing so than the latter. 

When the cab turned into the Stark driveway, Jon sucked in a breath as he caught sight of Sansa. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy – a pair of black skinny jeans and an emerald green summer top – but her hair was curled slightly and the smile on her face just made his heart contract a little. Sansa was simply beautiful. 

“Evening.” Sansa greeted him with an even wider smile and Jon found himself a little lost for words. He coughed and forced himself to pay attention to what Sansa was saying rather than simply staring at her like a goofball – as he assumed he was currently. 

“Evening. You – you look great, Sansa.”

“So do you.” She looked at his own black skinny jeans and grey three-quarter sleeved top and giggled. “Though I’m sure Myranda will have something to say about us both wearing black skinny jeans.”

“Around ninety per cent of my wardrobe is black”, Jon pointed out. The remaining ten per cent was mostly navy and grey. Plus there were the light coloured shirts he’d bought for working at Ned’s firm. “It does mean I’m going through a lot of lint rollers, though.”

“How is Ghost? You’ll need to bring him over soon – it feels like I haven’t seen him in person in ages.”

“Of course. In the meantime, there is this from when we were out at _The Three Dogs_ on Monday night.” He loaded up the video of Ghost lapping away at his water bowl and then getting excited when their meals out, and handed his phone to Sansa. 

“He’s such a cute little pup”, she sighed. “You just want to cuddle him every time you see him! Or at least I do.”

“I’m sure he feels the same way about you”, Jon told her. Sansa was the only person other than Jon and his mother that he’d ever seen the pup take to so quickly and comfortably. Ghost had even slept with Sansa the night she’d stayed over. 

That thought brought back images of a sleep-tousled Sansa the following morning. In _his_ kitchen wearing _his_ clothes. She looked just as stunning then as she did now. But Jon tried to push those thoughts from his mind. His jeans were too tight to get himself worked up on memories of Sansa in his clothes. 

-

When they arrived at _Eastwatch_ and Sansa saw Myranda and the rest of them standing in the corner, she was relieved that she’d decided her black pumps would be the best footwear option for the evening. 

She and Jon were by no means the last arrivals. By the look of her, Myranda had started cocktails as soon as she got back to her rented service apartment. Will and Kyle, on the other hand, seemed sober and were just starting the beers they sipped on. As far as Sansa could see, Arra, Harry and Ronnel had still to arrive. 

“Let’s get some drinks to fortify ourselves before we go over”, Jon whispered in her ear. Sansa shivered at his closeness and the goose bumps it brought out on her arm. She really needed to get a grip of herself. Sansa didn’t want to give Myranda another reason to pester her about Jon on Monday morning. 

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll get first round. Beer or wine for you?”

“Berry cider, just to be a bit different”, Jon grinned. He made a pathway for them to the bar, holding on to her elbow. Sansa had never particularly thought of her elbow as an asset. It was always just there. But tonight it seemed on fire though Jon’s touch was as light as a feather. She concentrated on getting to the bar and then ordering their drinks. 

Sansa liked that Jon didn’t protest when she offered to get the first round. Joffrey had laughed at her sole offer and then sneered. It made her seem as if she had no idea of his financial worth, apparently, and was in any case an insult to his masculinity. 

Jon was plenty masculine for her and he accepted his berry cider with a smile. Sansa was finding herself quite taken with Jon’s smile. It wasn’t something she had ever thought of before, but it was warm and gentle and meaningful. Jon never smiled just for the sake of it.

That hand was on her elbow again as they walked over to their group of co-workers. Like Sansa herself, Edda and Erena seemed to have opted for the comfort of jeans with ballet pumps. Myranda on the other hand had teamed her jeans with a corset-style top and heels that had to add at least four inches to her height. Sansa couldn’t see how either would give Myranda any comfort by the end of the night, as stunning as they made her friend look.

“Sansa!” Myranda moved towards her and brought her into a tight hug. “You both made it. And you’ve got yourselves drinks. The others shouldn’t be too long. I was thinking we could start off here and make our way along The Wall to _Westwatch_.”

Sansa simply nodded. There were nineteen pubs/restaurants along the strip of Wintertown known as The Wall and there was no way Sansa would still be with the group that made it to _Westwatch_. She doubted many of them would but thought it best not to say anything. Robb had made it as far as _Greyguard_ once, though he’d lost most of what he’d drunk on the way home and then down the toilet back at the house. 

“How many of them do you think will make it?” Jon whispered when Myranda turned to speak to Kyle about something.

Sansa shivered at Jon’s proximity and forced herself to concentrate. She couldn’t allow herself to get distracted every time Jon was close to her – especially not tonight, when the pubs would be full to bursting with it being pay day for so many and Jon could be pressed up against her over and over again. 

The image of him pressed up against her from behind, kissing her neck, entered Sansa’s mind and she bit her lip to stop herself moaning. She could taste the cherry lip gloss. She’d been trying to decide which flavour to wear and then Katy Perry had come on her Spotify playlist. 

Cherry _lip gloss_ might not be exactly the same as cherry _chap stick_ , but Sansa had decided it was definitely close enough to be taken as a sign.

“I don’t know everyone well enough to answer that – though I suspect Myranda will try and get as many of us to the other side as she can”, Sansa replied, refocusing on Jon’s question. If this was to be a heavy night of drinking, Sansa couldn’t see herself staying out too late. She’d never really been interested in getting drunk just for the sake of it – nor had Jon and Robb. 

“That big lunch we had is definitely starting to look like a good idea about now”, said Jon. “Any time you’re wanting to leave, let me know. I don’t think I’ll mind heading out early.”

“I love your top, Sansa”, Edda told her. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I mean it only as an observation, but it is almost exactly the same shade as our friend Wylla’s hair.”

Sansa did not take offense. On the contrary, she laughed. “Your friend has green hair?”

“Wylla likes to experiment”, Edda shrugged before taking a sip of the something-and-coke she was drinking. 

“I think I know who you’re talking about”, Jon put in. “About my height, long hair that’s always in a braid no matter the colour?”

“That’s our Wylla. She tried to get me or Erena – or both of us – to go with her the last time she went to the salon, but we learned a long time ago that if you let her be persuasive then, she’ll be even more so when you get there and the hairdresser suggests she colour _your_ hair at the same time.”

“What colour did she get you with?” Sansa asked, curious. She’d never, in any act of experimentation or rebellion, coloured her hair though Arya had tried blue and purple over the last two summer holidays – but even she hadn’t risked the wrath of their mother by dying it during term-time.

“We spent the first few weeks of our first year at WHU Law with pink hair”, Erena grimaced. “There was at least one professor who passed comment on it. Poor man, I think he thought we’d seen _Legally Blonde_ a time too many. Have you ever experimented with your colour, Sansa?”

“No”, she admitted. She twirled some of her curls around her finger and wondered if she _should_ experiment, be more bold. Sansa turned to Jon. “Can you imagine me as a brunette or a blonde? With green or pink hair?”

“I think it suits you just the way it is”, he replied. Sansa gulped and took a large sip of her white wine. She didn’t quite know what to say to that, and just let herself be caught up in listening to Jon tell the girls that he’d been down in White Harbour the previous Friday and picked up some literature for modules available next semester. 

As someone who had spent the entirety of her last relationship being told by her so-called boyfriend and her so-called friends how she could improve herself and her looks, it touched Sansa deeply to have someone tell her that even the smallest part of her was right just the way it was now. She found herself leaning into Jon slightly and taking in the musky, woodsy scent he had. 

Gods, but she was totally a goner for Jon Snow.

-

By the time they reached _Long Barrow_ , Jon was relieved that he had decided to take the night slowly. It may only be pub number four but that hadn’t stopped Arra, Myranda and Harry from trying to encourage the rest of them to join in with the shots they were having. All of the pubs along The Wall had stamp books for customers to fill in on a night out. Very few made it all the way along with their books stamped with the date, proving they’d had at least one shot in each pub on a single night. 

Arra, Myranda and Harry had picked up stamp books. The rest of them had not. Jon had been out with Robb and Theon once when they’d picked up the books. Jon had given in at _Icemark_ and switched to water, but the other two had stuck with it and made it to _Greyguard_. Had it really been three years ago Jon had stumbled into the Stark house with Robb and Theon, giggling as Robb’s stomach rejected everything he’d drunk that night?

As he’d be volunteering at the hospital fundraising event all day Sunday, Jon knew if he wanted to get anything done over the weekend he was left with Saturday and he had no desire to lose an entire day to a hangover. And so, he was switching between alcohol and soft drinks at the pubs they stopped at. Sansa had followed his lead. 

“It’s so loud in here. I can hardly hear myself think”, he told her. _Long Barrow_ had a reputation for playing metal music and they weren’t scrimping on it tonight. 

“What?” Sansa responded with a grin. Jon chuckled. 

“Never mind.” Jon used the new-found confidence he had with the alcohol he _had_ drunk to gently move slightly closer to Sansa. _Long Barrow_ was a small and busy pub after all. 

“What do you think about the _Direwolves_ press release from earlier?” Will asked him. 

“I’m sure their new album will be great”, Sansa interjected with a nod. Jon suppressed laughter at both Sansa’s words and the confused look on Will’s face and replied that he was sure their new signing would prove a great addition to the team for next season. 

“Do you go to a lot of matches?” Jon asked Will. 

“Some. You can’t grow up in Barrowton and not be a _Buccaneers_ fan. We’re all brainwashed shortly after birth.”

“Brainwashed is one way of putting it”, Kyle rolled his eyes. 

“You’re not a _Buccaneers_ fan? Or not a football fan?” Sansa asked him. 

“I watch it from time to time – mostly when I _have no other choice_ – but I’ve never been an avid fan. Anyway, I grew up just outside Cerwyn and we don’t really have much of a football tradition there. I didn’t move to Moat Cailin until I was seventeen, so I missed out on the childhood brainwashing.”

“You have a choice”, Will murmured, though Jon caught his words. “I take it you’re not a football person though, Sansa?”

“I prefer yoga or running – actually Jon and I are training for a fun race at the end of the summer. The NORTEM 10k.” While Kyle talked about his love of cycling, Jon looked around the small pub for the rest of their group. They’d been separated in two not long after arriving. He glanced over towards the bar and saw the other half dozen of them. Arra, Myranda and Harry were downing shots while Erena and Edda talked to Ronnel about something. Erena caught his eye and gave Jon a wave. 

Jon raised his beer bottle in response and then, satisfied the rest of their group knew where to find them, he retuned himself to their conversation. 

“……Wolfswood Country Park is such a great spot for it”, Sansa was saying. “There are so many paths for cycling, running, walking – dog walking too. I can’t believe you haven’t been! We sometimes go out there training, don’t we?”

“We do”, Jon agreed. He smiled at the way Sansa said _we_. 

Myranda came over then and interrupted their conversation. “Come on, come on! Down your drinks as quickly as you can. On to _Rimegate_!” Myranda blew a whistle she seemed to have acquired from somewhere to round them all up. 

Jon downed the dregs of his bottle of non-alcoholic beer and saw Sansa finish off her lemonade. With that whistle Myranda was blowing already going through Jon’s skull, he was grateful at the thought of the bottle of alcoholic beer awaiting him at their next pub.

“Where did she get that thing?” Sansa asked Jon when they exited the pub into the cool evening air. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe they were selling them behind the bar?” He looked over at Sansa and made sure she looked warm enough. Though it was the middle of summer, they were still in the North. She seemed to be fine, though, with glowing cheeks and a bright smile. 

-

By the time they reached _Castle Black_ , Sansa was feeling a bit _done_ with her night out. She was on the sober-tipsy side of drunk – sober enough to know what she was doing and to be aware of how drunk some of the others were, but tipsy enough that it wasn’t bothering her too much. Jon’s switcheroo system seemed to be working for her. 

Sansa glanced at Will and Kyle playing pool as she had the last time she’d been here. She and Jon had teamed up and come last in their competition. He had been so sweet to her that night, focusing attention on Jeyne hustling his mother rather than any nerves she might feel about letting their team down. Sansa doubted there would be a pool competition this evening, though. 

Her cheeks reddened a little as she watched Kyle line up his next shot. She’d left Jon with her lemonade and lime spritzer in _Oakenshield_ and gone to the bathroom. What she had not anticipated was encountering a moment between Will and Kyle on the way there. They’d been working together for weeks now but Sansa hadn’t been aware in all that time they were a couple. The two of them had stopped her on her way back to Jon and asked her to keep it quiet. 

_“You know how people view workplace romances. We don’t have family working there to stand up for us. HR could come down on us like a ton of bricks for not declaring our relationship. It’s different to how it is for you and Jon.”_

Sansa had spluttered that her father’s firm had no policies on staff dating as long as one of them wasn’t a direct manager of the other (she knew that because Jory had previously been engaged to Ella Whitehill) and that actually, she and Jon were _not_ a couple. They were simply close friends who had known each other practically all their lives. 

She had gone back to Jon and her spritzer with a past conversation she’d shared with Myranda ringing in her ears.

_“And, for what it’s worth, Jon and I have known each other for years! Besides, if we are going by_ having lunch together every day _then that would suggest Will and Kyle are together as much as Jon and I are!”_

_“Alright, alright”, Myranda had replied. She’d then held up her hands and shaken her head. “I may believe you when you say there’s nothing more than friendship between you and Jon, Sansa, but I don’t recommend being_ that _defensive if Harry ever asks._ _He might think you doth protest a little too much.”_

Sansa was starting to understand why people around them at work thought she and Jon were together. They _did_ eat lunch together every day. They _did_ spent staff nights out constantly in each other’s company. 

She sipped on her glass of wine and moved her chair closer to Jon’s. “I’m not sure I’ll stay out long after this.”

Jon glanced at his watch, which Sansa saw read ten thirty. “No, me either. _Deep Lake_?”

“ _Deep Lake_ seems like a good place to call it a night”, Sansa agreed. On a more practical note, _Deep_ _Lake_ wasn’t too far from the cab rank. 

“Seven hells!” Jon exclaimed in a low, guttural voice that Sansa would only ever admit to herself did funny things to her insides. She followed his line of sight and saw Myranda and Harry at a table near the bar area. Myranda seemed to be giving Harry some sort of _lap dance_ with Arra egging them on.

“I’m so glad we’re nowhere near that drunk”, Sansa blurted out. She watched as her friend joined her lips to Harry’s, while his hands seemed to be everywhere. Sansa scrunched up her nose. She thought Myranda had better taste than _Harry_ _Hardyng_. “Look at those hands, he’s like an octopus or something.”

Jon snorted through his beer at that and put an arm round her shoulder. “Please don’t take offense when I say that’s a quip worthy or Arya.”

“I won’t take it as something offensive”, Sansa grinned. “I’ll take it as a compliment, Jon Snow, that you think I can say something as witty and insulting as my sister.”

Sansa leaned in closer to Jon and lay her head on his shoulder before looking around the room to try and locate the rest of their group. They seemed to diverge from one another as soon as they got drinks. She supposed that was what it was like, going on a pub crawl in such a large group – especially when most of them didn’t really know each other all that well. 

Sansa tried to ignore the way her heart seemed to beat faster the longer Jon’s arm stayed around her shoulder…….and tingles it caused when his fingers caressed her arm. She was sure Jon saw her as more than _Robb’s sister_ – though that was in itself a complication – but she wasn’t sure if he saw her as more than a friend. 

-

Jon felt pleasantly buzzed when he finished the last of his whiskey at _Deep Lake_. Given it was to be the last pub of the night, he’d treated himself to more than one drink. Sansa was sat next to him, sipping on a glass of wine and talking to Ronnel about his Botany studies. Jon had sat quietly and listened to how a casual mention of her life-long friendship with Meera Reed and her family had blossomed into a discussion of Ronnel’s course and his passion for flowers and plants. 

“I know it sounds silly to some people, the way I think of them as people almost – “

“I think of the characters in the literature I read as real”, Sansa had shrugged in reply. “How is that any different when you come down to it?”

Now, they were discussing favourite flowers. 

“Blue winter roses”, Jon added. “We’ve always had them in the garden, so they’re my favourite.”

“I have to stand up for them – Lyanna grows stunning roses”, Sansa agreed. 

“There are so many flowers in the Neck that you don’t see here. Poison kisses, for example. They sound deadly and they can cause rashes if you don’t handle them safely enough, but they are truly the most vivid shade of purple I have ever seen.” Ronnel raised his empty glass. “I’m going to the bar for another drink. Would either of you like anything?”

Jon shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m just going to head out in a few minutes and call it a night. I’ve got a busy weekend.”

“I do sort of wish we could afford a wasted hangover weekend”, Sansa told him. Jon privately agreed – especially if it involved him and Sansa spending a weekend in bed together. 

When Ronnel left to go to the bar, Jon pushed his empty glass to the side and Sansa finished her wine. “Right, time to go”, she said decisively. 

“Time to go”, Jon echoed. The two of them decided a trip to the bathroom was in order and met up again outside. 

They did not say goodbye to everyone. They waved to Kyle and Will, who still seemed very intent on a game of darts they’d started not long after arriving and wished the remainder of the group an enjoyable evening. Arra was very merry – though Jon trusted Edda and Erena were in a good position to look after her – and Ronnel was standing with the three of them. 

Jon and Sansa did not bid farewell to Myranda and Harry, who had spent most of the night since _Castle Black_ either downing shots or groping each other as much as they could get away with. He knew Myranda was Sansa’s friend and she could definitely do a lot better than _Harry_. 

“Wow”, Sansa breathed when they walked outside. _Deep Lake_ had – like the rest of the pubs they’d been into that night – crowded, and the body heat had boosted the summer temperatures even further. Going outside, they were hit by the cooler air. 

“Are you warm enough?” he asked Sansa.

“I’m fine – it’s just a bit of a drop compared to what it was like in there. Do you want to share a cab?”

Jon felt his cock twitch slightly at the connotations that raised in his mind. _Getting a cab_ somewhere with Sansa and spending the night with her. Gods, how he wanted to do that! Instead, he glanced at his watch and saw it was a little after eleven thirty. 

“My mother is due off shift at midnight.” And the hospital was a ten minute walk away. “I’ll put you in a cab and then walk round to meet her.”

“It’ll be a nice surprise”, Sansa agreed. 

They walked along in companionable silence the rest of the way to the rank where the evening cabs were lined up, waiting to transport revellers home. Jon reasoned with himself that he was doing the right thing. As he had reminded himself earlier that night, in wine there was truth. And he didn’t think blurting out his feelings for Sansa were the best way to end the night. 

Jon knew they’d reached a point where she saw him as more than _Robb’s best friend_ , but did she see him as more than a friend? 

“So, this is me”, Sansa told him softly when they reached the cab rank. “I’ve had a good, though oft-times strange night.”

“That sounds like a good way of describing it”, Jon laughed. “Take care, Sansa. Text me when you get back to the house.”

Jon made sure he said that last part loud enough for the cab driver to hear it, and leaned in to hug Sansa. He ran his fingers up and down her back and inhaled her flowery scent. 

“Good night, Sansa”, he murmured. The next few moments happened so fast and so slowly that Jon wondered if they were real. He went to kiss Sansa on the cheek, but her head moved as he did so and instead Jon found himself kissing her lips. 

She tasted of cherries. 

It was little more than a pressing of his lips on hers, but Jon could feel them part as his did and they stayed there like that for a moment or ten or a thousand, moving gently. He felt Sansa pull away slightly and then move back in again to capture his lips as he had done hers – though this time, he could feel it was deliberate. 

“Are you wanting this cab or not?”

Jon was pulled out of the moment by the grouchy cab driver but his eyes ignored the man, seeking only Sansa and her reaction. She was biting her lip the way all the Starks seemed to do when they were nervous, but he could see the shy smile he adored in her. Jon smiled back, widely and unashamedly. 

He had kissed Sansa Stark, and he had more than liked it. 

-

Sansa waved goodnight to Jon as the cab driver had pulled out into the road. It felt like her heart was beating at several hundred miles an hour. All those hours she’d spent over the last couple of weeks thinking about Jon and how complicated it all was….and it had taken simply a slight movement of her head to start something between them. To answer so many of her questions at once. She hadn’t even done it deliberately. 

It had taken all the courage Sansa possessed – fortified a little by the wine she’d consumed – to pull back ever so slightly and then press her lips lightly to his again. She wanted him to see without having to say so that while it was accidental, she had _wanted_ him to kiss her. 

She was quite sure the smile on her face right now was as wide as the Summer Sea. 

Sansa’s phone pinged and she saw the message that had come through was from Jon. She bit her lip and opened it. 

_I had a good time tonight._

If possible, Sansa felt her smile grow even wider. 

_Me too. Surprisingly. Maybe it helps prove the theory that the nights out we dread a little bit are the ones we enjoy the most?_

She supposed logically speaking that would always be the case – they were the nights out that exceeded expectations, after all. The cab driver was mostly quiet and Sansa could see the grouchy look on his face in the mirror. She ignored him, something she normally wouldn’t do, and looked out the window. It was never truly dark in Wintertown – indeed in the North generally – in the midst of summer, and Sansa loved the different hues of twilight at this time of year. 

For some reason, the Northern sky looked even more beautiful tonight than it ever had. 

_I don’t think I would’ve agreed to go out tonight if you hadn’t been there. I would probably have been anti-social and made up some excuse or other. Being there tonight was definitely the right decision. Are you nearly home yet?_

Sansa looked at the streets around her.

_A couple of minutes away. Are you at the hospital yet?_

She did not say that she wished they were going home together. She did not say that she wished they’d shared more than the slight brushing of lips that had characterized their first kiss. She wouldn’t have changed that kiss for anything in the world, but it reinforced how much more Sansa wanted with Jon. 

_Just waiting for the shift change. You looked so beautiful tonight. If I’d had more sense, I would’ve started the night the way we ended it._

“Five dragons, please”, the cab driver grunted out, pulling Sansa out of the brain jam she was having. 

_You looked so beautiful tonight. If I’d had more sense, I would’ve started the night the way we ended it._

“Sorry, what?” Sansa asked. 

“Five dragons, please”, the cab driver repeated. Sansa could hear the exasperation in his tone well enough. It reminded her a little of the way people had spoken to her in King’s Landing. 

“Here.” She added on a sixth dragon as a tip – the man might be rude, but Sansa had been raised better than that. “Thank you.”

Sansa stepped out of the cab and tried to locate her keys with Jon’s words running through her mind over and over again. Before she could find them, her father had opened the front door and was calling her name. 

“Come inside. You’ll be looking for your keys all night in that bag. Arya swears it has secret compartments in it. Something about a charm that extends it?” Sansa smiled. Her father had neither seen nor read _Harry Potter_ , though he’d certainly been told about the story and characters more than once. 

Sansa walked in and found her parents were still up, sharing a bottle of wine. When she walked into the family room, her mother looked up and asked how she’d enjoyed her night. 

“It was great, thank you. Very, very….great.” Sansa couldn’t stop smiling and was sure her kiss with Jon was written all over her face. 

“Did you share a cab with Jon?” her father asked as he returned to the sunken, faded armchair he had long since claimed as his own. 

“Erm, no. Lyanna’s shift was just about finished so he went round to the hospital to meet her. That reminds me, I promised to text Jon to let him know I got home safely, so…….”

As much as Sansa loved her parents, she wanted to run up to her room and start texting Jon again. She hoped he wouldn’t be too concerned at how long she was taking to reply, particularly given the content of his last message. 

_You looked so beautiful tonight. If I’d had more sense, I would’ve started the night the way we ended it._

“I think I’ll head up to bed”, Sansa finished. 

“I thought we’d head out around midday if you were back early enough”, her mother said. Gods, with everything else, Sansa had forgotten her promise to go shopping on Saturday with her mother. They had things to buy for Rickon’s upcoming birthday party, Aunt Roslin’s baby shower was in a couple of weeks and Aunt Lysa’s wedding anniversary was coming up as well. 

“Yeah. Around midday. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night.”

Sansa went upstairs with a little less enthusiasm in her stride. She would be out all afternoon and Jon was helping out at that hospital fayre on Sunday. Sansa didn’t want to wait until Monday to see him again.

_You looked so beautiful tonight. If I’d had more sense, I would’ve started the night the way we ended it._

Sansa didn’t even take off her shoes before responding to Jon’s message. 

_That’s me back in the house. Cab driver grouchy but not a homicidal maniac, unlike the ghost stories Arya used to tell! I liked the end of the night best too._

How could she not have? At the end of the night, Sansa had kissed Jon Snow. And she had _definitely_ more than liked it.

-

“Sorry I took so long”, his mother sighed. Jon had been waiting out in the holding area of the ER for almost half an hour while she finished up with a patient and a few charts. 

“I didn’t mind”, he told her honestly. The night admissions desk clerk, Jerry, had made him a coffee and loaned him some spray so he didn’t smell like a pub anymore. The coffee would probably have completely sobered him up, given how strong it was, had it not been for the text conversation he was engaged in with Sansa. 

Was it possible to be high on a person?

He’d been a little nervous when one of the messages hadn’t elicited an immediate reply. 

_Just waiting for the shift change. You looked so beautiful tonight. If I’d had more sense, I would’ve started the night the way we ended it._

Her eventual reply, saying she was home, released the tension in Jon’s muscles. Ned had probably still been up, waiting for her to come home. He recalled nights out he’d been on with Robb in the past when they were younger – Ned had always been subtle about it, but Jon knew he wanted to make sure everyone was home safely before he turned in for the night. 

Jon’s phone pinged with Sansa’s response to his latest message. 

_Definitely_ It’s a Wonderful Life _, but_ Love Actually _is not far behind. I’ve just realized that I don’t know your favourite colour._

Jon chuckled under his breath and then replied. 

_Generally black. Though I am finding myself liking red a lot more lately. Favourite Weasley?_

He heard his mother cough loudly. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m sure you’re speaking with someone very important. I only asked _three times_ if you had any plans yet for tomorrow evening.” She rolled her eyes, but Jon could tell there was no real exasperation in her face or tone.

“I don’t think so”, Jon replied. He did wonder if it would be possible to see Sansa on Saturday, though. The fayre was on Sunday and he didn’t want to go as late as Monday without seeing her again. 

“Good, because I said maybe you might be able to help with the set up for Sunday? It would just be a couple of hours tomorrow evening. Maybe three. You’d have the rest of the day to yourself. I know it is a lot to ask after you volunteered to help out on Sunday – “

“I was _volunteered_ to help out on Sunday”, Jon clarified as they reached the car. 

“Potato, potahto”, his mother shook her head. He nodded. The hospital meant a lot to his mother. Her job there was a symbol of what she had managed to achieve in her life. 

“I’ll be there.”

“Excellent!” Jon’s phone pinged again. “You’re popular tonight. You meet a girl or something?”

“I just stayed with the group”, Jon shrugged. As his mother started up the car, Jon looked at his phone and Sansa’s latest message. 

_Ginny. We’re both redheads with over-protective older brothers. And I like to think that one day, I’ll be as kick-ass as she is. Favourite Marauder? Mine’s Moony._

Jon grinned and began to type his response.


	16. If it Quacks Like a Duck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to play spot the Alayne TWOW references........

It may have been a tad selfish, but sat in the raffle booth Jon found himself wishing he’d denied his mother’s request to help out at the fundraising day. Certainly everyone was having a lot of fun – there was someone dressed up as a clown, another making balloon animals for the children in attendance, and a third and fourth involved in face painting – and there were booths selling candy floss, home baking and milkshakes.

That said, between Sansa’s shopping trip with Catelyn and the hours Jon had spent on Saturday evening helping to get everything set up, he hadn’t seen her since they parted after their Friday night kiss. 

Gods, but Jon was desperate to see Sansa again. 

They had texted late into the night, discussing the important and the ridiculous. They’d asked each other questions they never had before on a variety of topics that both bled into each other and had no connection to the last. The conversation followed their respective streams of consciousness and it was like nothing Jon had ever done before. 

He hated the idea of meeting her again at work and then having to endure the torture of seeing her from afar all morning before their daily standing lunch.

Jon let his mind wander back to Friday night and _that_ kiss. It had not been his intention to make Sansa aware of his feelings for her while anything less than stone-cold sober, but Jon would not change it for the world. He could not and would not regret it. 

“Three strips please.” Jon was pulled from his thoughts by an older couple looking to buy tickets for the raffle. He passed over the book for them to write their names and contact details on one side and pull their own copies out on the other. As the Chief Admin Officer had explained the night before, the organizers had gone out of their way to secure good prizes from the main businesses in Wintertown. The top prize was a new car and Jon had himself purchased a few tickets in the hope of winning it. 

“Good luck”, Jon told them when he folded up the copy of their tickets and placed them in the large holding barrel for the draw, due to take place at the end of the day. He smiled as the man – whom Jon placed in his early to mid-seventies – took the woman’s hand in his and led her off in the direction of the food stalls. 

“How are you getting on?”

“Fine”, Jon promised his mother. She had come over in her uniform with a cup of coffee and a donut. “Sold quite a few tickets. You busy?”

“No more than usual. Thank you again for doing this. I know you value your Sundays and your training.”

“I doubt missing one training session will make a massive difference”, Jon shrugged. He scratched his beard and stretched out. The training had been going well over the last few weeks and Jon would admit that were the fun race to take place in a fortnight or so, he and Sansa would definitely both be ready for it. 

He looked out at the grassed area, which was bustling with people enjoying their Sunday. “It looks like the afternoon has been a success, in any case.”

“You want anything?”

Jon looked over at the stall that’d been torturing his nose for most of the last two or three hours. “The burger stall. A cheeseburger with crispy bacon. And one of those strawberry and lime crushed ice things they have would be great.”

His mother chuckled. “Your wish is my command.”

-

The idea of not seeing Jon in person until Monday morning had been gnawing away at Sansa since they’d exchanged texts after waking on Saturday morning and discovered their weekend schedules did not align. 

She did not want Monday morning across a crowded office to be the next time they locked eyes. Sansa knew if they did then _that kiss_ would be written all over her face and she didn’t want it gossiped about in the same breath as Harry and Myranda’s hook-up. She and Jon were more than that. They had a solid foundation of friendship and had known each other for almost twenty years. Sansa didn’t want their connection reduced to a meme or one-liner about drunken workplace parties. 

It was with that in mind that Sansa had casually suggested to her mother over breakfast that – _in the name of charity, of course_ – they stop by the hospital event to show their support. Her father, bless him, had backed her up and recalled that four of his five children had been born at Wintertown General.

All but Robb, who had been premature and born in the Riverlands near her grandfather’s home. 

Thankfully, the perceptive Arya had spent the previous night at Gendry’s and wasn’t expected back until dinner. And so, it was with her innocent parents in tow that Sansa travelled to Wintertown General. She’d never quite remember what she said upon arriving that persuaded them to make a direct line for the home baking stalls – leaving Sansa herself free to approach Jon at the raffle stall. 

She’d need to buy some tickets. 

He was selling tickets to a young family when Sansa approached and heard him talking to the youngest boy about the football t-shirt he was wearing. Sansa smiled at the sight of his curls breaking free from the tie he’d used to keep them back from his face. At the sight of his half-smile and his arms. Gods, but Sansa had felt her heart skip a beat more than once at the mere sight of Jon Snow’s arms. 

When the family moved away, Sansa could see Jon fidget with something and then bend over to the side and a barrel placed next to him. She could feel the smile on her face grow the moment his eyes met hers. 

“Hi”, she said, wondering when her voice had last sounded so shy. 

“Hi”, Jon replied. “I didn’t think you’d be here today.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck and then scratched his beard. It took Sansa a moment to realize he was probably as nervous about this as she was. They had known each other a very long time. There was Robb to consider. They would be living together in a few, short weeks down in White Harbour. And then there was _Robb_. 

This would be complicated, but that was no reason why they shouldn’t try and figure out what this thing was between them. That was no reason why they shouldn’t explore their – hopefully mutual – feelings.

“As I told my parents, we should do our bit for the community. Show our support. How – have you been busy? Sold a lot of tickets?”

“Been busy enough. My mother brought me a bacon cheeseburger for lunch. And this.” He raised a plastic cup with a red ice drink in it. 

“Oh. Burger good?”

“Great. Better than Gage’s, though I’d never admit that to anyone who works there. How – how was your shopping yesterday?”

Sansa laughed. “We spent about twenty minutes picking up things for Rickon’s birthday, another ten on Aunt Roslin’s baby shower gifts and then _five hours_ trying to find something Aunt Lysa wouldn’t hate for her anniversary. I could have been doing something far more interesting with my Saturday.”

_I could have been spending it with you._

“I spent the afternoon watching crap on TV with Ghost. They had a trailer on for a new movie that came out last week. _Bael the Bard_. That’s a story you told me about, right?”

“Right.”

Never mind Joffrey, Sansa could recall literary ideas and books she’d discussed with _her family_ that they couldn’t recall the details of a week later. But _Jon_ …….gods, but Jon could always remember everything she’d said. 

“I didn’t know there was one”, she admitted. Sansa couldn’t recall the last time she’d watched a movie in a cinema. Mostly she waited until they were on Netflix. “I’ll need to tell my mother. The Gods know Arya won’t come and see it with me.”

“I thought – would you want me to come and see it with you? Would – we could go one night after work. Get dinner first. Maybe tomorrow? Monday’s are a good night to get a reservation at short notice. I know it’d be short notice, but – “

“I’d like that.” Sansa smiled at him. Jon had this awkward grin on his face and he was fidgeting and Sansa found it all far too adorable. 

“Me too.”

“Sansa! Have you bought us tickets yet?” They were interrupted by the arrival of her parents. Sansa took a step back as her father opened his wallet and purchased a number of raffle tickets, writing not his own name but those of her siblings as the entrant, while her mother asked after Lyanna. 

Sansa remained almost silent, thinking of her dinner and cinema trip with Jon. 

Was it a _date_? Jon hadn’t said the word exactly. But he had asked if she wanted to get dinner and go to a movie with him _after_ their kiss. _After_ they had spent hours on Friday night texting about anything and everything.

\- 

Sansa pushed away from the dinner table feeling fuller than she had since the Sunday before. Her mother made the _best_ Sunday dinners Sansa had ever come across and each week there seemed to be an unspoken agreement around the table that having leftovers from such a beautiful meal was an insult. 

The pork had melted in her mouth and the cheese and chive mash had been so creamy! 

Bran and Rickon left the table pretty quickly as always – as did Arya and Gendry. While the latter were due over at their friend Lommy’s to help him prepare for an upcoming move, Sansa knew her brothers well enough to know they were trying to escape helping out with clean up. Her father went through to his study to link up the weekly video call with Uncle Benjen in Queenscrown and that left Sansa – _as per usual_ , she fondly muttered to herself under her breath – to assist her mother.

“I know I say this every Sunday, but that was a truly amazing dinner”, said Sansa. She stacked all seven plates on top of each other and carried them over to the sink. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. Did you get enough? Gendry is a growing boy, Rickon seems to inhale food – and you know what your father’s like with home cooking.”

“Why go out to a restaurant when the best evening meal in Wintertown is to be found here?”

“Something like that.” Her father was a notorious home bird. Reminding him that her mother could do with a treat was the only way her father could be persuaded to go out for a meal. 

Sansa started to run the hot water for the rinse through her mother always gave dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher – _to make sure they’re properly cleaned, sweetheart_ – and wondered where she and Jon would go for dinner before their movie. Or, would Jon want to go and see the movie first? 

What order of events was Sansa herself looking for?

“I thought we might have beef stew tomorrow night”, her mother suggested. “What do you think, Sansa?”

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely, but I won’t be here. I’m going out with Jon after work tomorrow night. We’re going to see that new _Bael the Bard_ movie. We’ll get something to eat before or after.” Sansa said it casually – or so she hoped – while wiping the place mats. As if it were nothing of importance when the opposite was true. 

“Oh. I didn’t realize – I mean, is that – Where’s Jon taking you for dinner on your date?”

“I don’t know where we’re going – we haven’t decided yet. And it’s not a date.” Well, it might be, but Sansa wasn’t sure about that and she didn’t want to spread her own brand of confusion. 

“What’s not a date?” Arya interrupted. She walked in the back door and went straight for the fridge.

“I thought you and Gendry went to Lommy’s?” said Sansa.

“Gendry forgot his sports bag and I wanted some water. So……what’s not a date?”

“I’m going to see the new _Bael the Bard_ movie with Jon tomorrow night and then we’re going to get dinner. Or eat before. I’m not sure what the schedule at the movie theatre is like.”

“Jon? Go to _Bael the Bard_? He usually likes much cooler movies than that.”

“ _Arya_ ”, their mother reprimanded. Arya lifted her arms in surrender. 

“And it isn’t a date?”

“It is two friends watching a movie and eating food”, Sansa insisted. 

“Have fun then”, Arya replied dryly. Sansa ignored the final, muttered words that came out of her sister’s mouth, intended for their own ears and not those of their peaceable mother. 

_If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck and walks like a duck, then it’s a bloody duck._

Although she’d never admit it to her sister, Sansa very much wanted this to be a date. She hoped it was – even though getting up her hopes over a new romance had been far from her intention when she arrived home on the train from King’s Landing. Jon may have seemed a tad bashful that afternoon, particularly when he suggested they catch the movie, but he’d also kept texting her on Friday night until the early hours of the morning. 

Surely it was?

-

“That was amazing”, his mother groaned from the other side of the kitchen table. She raised her bottle of beer. “To the good people at the pizza place – saving us from cooking dinner and doing dishes at least once a week.”

“To pizza!” Jon toasted, clinking his own bottle against hers. He chuckled at the sight of them. Some people were always curious when they saw him socializing with his mother, but at times like this he felt like he could show someone their evening in and make it clear that in some ways they felt more like contemporaries. 

“Thank you again for what you did today. I know I volunteered you for it on your free Sunday.”

“It was fine.” _Especially when Sansa had stopped by._ Less so when Ned and Catelyn had joined her and stopped Jon from asking Sansa if she wanted their dinner and a movie to be a date. He did – and he hoped Sansa did too – but he wanted her to make that decision. 

“I can’t believe we’re almost halfway through your summer. That sucks.”

“It’s been a good one so far. Working at Ned’s firm has been pretty cool.” _Also, Sansa_. 

Jon felt a nip at his heels and looked down to see Ghost looking up at him expectantly. He grinned down at the pup and went to open the back door to let him out into the garden to do his business, as it were. They’d go out for a long walk just before bedtime. 

“When are you working this week?” Jon asked. 

“Tomorrow and Tuesday I am working the late shift, and then I’m off until Saturday. But I’ll be on early shift when I go back, so no night out on Friday. Make yourself whatever you want for dinner tomorrow and Tuesday, and I’ll just make myself a bacon sandwich or something when I get in.”

Jon coughed. “Oh, um, I’ll be out for dinner tomorrow night. There’s a movie out that Sansa wants to go and see. _Bael the Bard_? I checked on the listings while we were waiting on the pizza, and there’s a showing at six. I figured we could go to that one straight from work and then head on somewhere for dinner.”

“Dinner and a movie?” his mother snorted. “You’re such a traditionalist at heart, Jon.”

“Traditionalist?”

She picked up the empty pizza box and walked over to the bin. “Yeah, taking a girl to see a movie and then for dinner. Very traditional first date. It is your first date, isn’t it?”

“We just decided to go and get food and watch a movie”, Jon replied. “There wasn’t any talk of it being a date.”

“My bad. I just thought – never mind. Anyways, we could do something one night this week when I’m off. Wednesday or Thursday? We could go ten-pin bowling and take home some Tyroshi or Lyseni food or something.”

“Sounds good.” Jon nodded and listened to his mother debate whether they should go for Tyroshi or Lyseni, vaguely taking in what she was saying as he thought over her words. Had traditionalist meant boring? 

And then there was her automatic assumption that his evening out with Sansa was a date. Was he that obvious? Not that this mattered too much now that he’d actually kissed Sansa, albeit accidentally, but he wanted to at least keep their private business private at Ned’s firm. He knew how it would look for her and that Harry Hardyng could try to make things difficult for Sansa – as difficult as it could be for a Stark. 

Jon didn’t want Sansa to be subject to office gossip. 

He walked to the back door and stepped outside onto the narrow decking area he’d assembled for his mother summer before last. Jon took a picture of Ghost digging away at a patch of dirt away from the flowers his mother grew, and sent it to Sansa. 

_Ghost is the cutest of pups in my totally biased opinion._

Jon chuckled at her response and nutted up before responding. 

_I checked the listings and_ Bael _is on at six tomorrow. Are you okay to head there straight from work and then go on somewhere for dinner? What kind of food would you like?_

He clicked on send and waited on Sansa’s response. Jon called for Ghost to stop digging. It was unclear what the pup was looking for, but he was getting close to the requiring a bath stage. Ghost woofed and bounded up to Jon, tail wagging happily.

His phone pinged. 

_Six showing sounds great. I’m happy to go wherever. There’s a great diner next to the movie theatre._

Jon sent off a reply and started to allow himself to get excited about his sort of date with Sansa Stark. 

-

Sansa was a little nervous throughout Monday. It started the moment she woke and felt butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t been on a first date in a long time. If that was what this was – and Sansa couldn’t stop herself wishing it were so. When she came to get dressed, it struck her that whatever she wore to work would be what she wore out with Jon, unless she changed at the end of the work day. 

Should she change or wear the same thing?

In the end, Sansa had decided to wear the green summer dress she’d picked out on her Saturday shopping trip with her mother. She’d spotted it when they were looking for a gift for Aunt Lysa and quickly snapped it up. Sansa also decided to wear it both in the office and out with Jon. He was used to her wearing dresses and wouldn’t think she was over-dressed (hopefully).

She smoothed the dress down towards the end of the day. It had been a mentally exhausting day of audio typing depositions Jory had handed to her with a grimace first thing. It was work that needed done, and needed to be completed quickly. Sansa knew she should feel honoured Jory trusted her so much, but it was isolating work. At least when she was reading or studying in a library there was a sense of silent camaraderie. Everyone was in the same position. With this, it felt like everybody else was able to socialize apart from Sansa herself. 

“Jory has kept you from talking to me all day”, Myranda pouted when Sansa finally took off her headset and hit the _print_ button on her screen. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about Friday night or our weekends or anything. I would’ve spoken to you at lunchtime but Snow has a lock on your time then.”

Sansa shrugged and mumbled something about it being a professional workplace. 

She did not mention her lunch for the day. Jon had been out all day, attending court with Jeor Mormont and her father had instead taken her out for lunch. They’d gone to the book store for ciabattas and discussed the coursework Sansa had been sent information on for the forthcoming semester. 

“How far along did you make it?” Sansa asked Myranda.

“The card thing I have says _Sentinel Stand_. I woke up on Saturday morning with that and a whistle next to me. Still not sure where I got the whistle from.” Myranda shrugged and moved over closer to Sansa. “I also woke up with Harry next to me. I went for seconds – or possibly thirds – with him Saturday morning. BIG mistake. Though _big_ is not a word I think I’ll be using in the future in relation to Harry. I’ve had worse but not by much.”

Sansa wasn’t quite sure what to say. A small, snarky voice in the back of her head – one that sounded very like Arya – wanted to say she felt some satisfaction that Harry had proved a disappointment. He’d been snippy with her ever since she’d make it clear there was no possibility of them pursuing any sort of relationship. 

Harry was also off with Jon, which Myranda had more than once put down to jealousy. Knowing Jon had been raised by a single mother, Harry tended to regularly mention the money his late father had left him. 

She would never tell Harry the truth of Jon’s parentage, but Sansa thought it would be satisfying to see the look on his face if he ever discovered Jon’s biological father was one of the richest men in Westeros. 

“I take it then that you won’t be seeing him again.” Sansa decided to be diplomatic. 

“Not unless I’m _really_ desperate.” Myranda rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t as dull as Uther Shett – nor as much of a monster as that singer, Marillion – but he wasn’t much to write home about either. Ah, Marillion. A monster, but gods what that man could do with his fingers.”

Myranda got a faraway glaze over her face, but she soon shook herself out of it and made Sansa promise not to go through the day without talking to her again. Sansa smiled and watched Myranda head to the staff break room with her coffee cup, wondering if perhaps she and Myranda had more in common than she’d once thought. 

She went to the copier and collected her printing, taking it straight to Jory’s office. Sansa knocked shortly on the door and waited for him to call her in. 

“Thank you, Sansa”, Jory smiled at her. He got up and came round the desk to take the pile of transcripts from her. “Excellent. I’ll have a quick look through them, but you’re also looking at your work for tomorrow – I’m going to need you to go through them for a few specific things. Jon will likely be in court with Jeor again tomorrow, so I’ll go over what I need with you and Arra in the morning. Good work.”

“Thank you.” Sansa was both disappointed not to be working with Jon again and excited for him to be getting to go to court with Jeor. She knew how much he was getting out of this internship and the high esteem he had for Jeor Mormont. “I’ll just get back to my desk. I have a few things to clear up before the end of the day.”

“Monday’s almost over”, Jory grinned. 

Sansa left Jory and got back to the office to see Jon returning with Jeor Mormont. She shot him a smile as they went in the direction of Jeor’s office. 

The butterflies returned to Sansa’s stomach now. 

She was excited and nervous and knew she and Jon could be on the cusp of crossing a line – going from _friends_ to _more than friends_ was a scary concept, but one that Sansa knew could bring her happiness. Yes, there would be complications, their planned living arrangements and his close, long-standing friendship with her eldest (and, perhaps, favourite) brother among them, but Sansa knew that it could – that it _would_ – be so, _so_ worth it. 

Jon was worth taking that leap of faith for. 

-

When he left Jeor’s office at the end of the working day, Jon felt a great deal of personal satisfaction. He may have spent most of the day in court taking notes and acting as a sort of assistant to Mormont, but gaining real workplace experience was invaluable to him. When Jon compared his experience in this internship to what Robb had told him of Farman in Lannisport, he knew how truly lucky he was to even set foot in a courtroom. 

Moving into the main office area, however, his thoughts turned to Sansa and their planned date. Evening out. He had to stop referring to it as a date until he made sure he and Sansa were on the same page with this. The more he reflected on it, the more certain Jon became that they were. 

She was wearing an emerald green dress today which, combined with her red hair, made Jon think of autumn. The way the hemline swished around her knees also made Jon want to fall to his knees and make his way underneath the dress, bringing Sansa to the edge and over it again and again and again. 

But, then, Jon found he now had those thoughts every time he saw Sansa in a dress or skirt. 

He coughed to redirect his focus from going down on Sansa before anyone else around him were made aware of his libidinous thoughts. Jon quickly checked the e-mails that had filled up his inbox while he was in court and answered Edda’s friendly questions about his day. Jon knew some of the others might think it unfair for him to get involved in a case to the extent he was able to go to court – particularly given most of them were further into their legal studies than he was – but Edda and Erena had taken to him as a WHU Law friend. 

When Edda had finished, Jon caught sight of the clock and saw it was five thirty. He shut down the computer and made sure he had his phone and wallet. 

Jon couldn’t recall ever being so nervous about a first date. 

If it _was_ even a date. 

He knew that a potential relationship with Sansa came with complications – given he considered Robb a brother and would be _living with him and Jeyne and Sansa_ next semester – but she was so totally worth the potential problems they’d no doubt encounter. 

And while Ned Stark had praised his work and had always been kind to him as Robb’s best friend, how would he react to the prospect of Jon as his eldest daughter’s boyfriend?

Sansa was waiting for him at her desk, smiling. 

“How was court?” she asked him. 

“Good. I didn’t really do much, to be honest, but it was an amazing experience nonetheless. What were you doing today?”

“Just some audio typing. And Jory has some tasks for tomorrow with Arra relating to the transcripts I did. Also – no, I’d best not tell you here. I don’t like office gossip.” Jon wondered if it related to Myranda and Harry, who had been exploring each other’s tonsils and other body parts when he and Sansa had left the group on Friday night. 

Once again, Jon thought on how he’d assumed Myranda would have better taste than Harry. 

Sansa wrapped a white cardigan round her shoulders and picked up her bag. She seemed ready to go and so Jon led them outside. It was a beautiful summer’s day and he’d already decided to leave his tie and suit jacket in the car when they went in to see the movie. Thank all the gods the courtroom had air con. 

“I called the diner at lunchtime to make a reservation, but they said they didn’t take any”, Jon told Sansa as they walked along to his car. He’d taken it to the car wash before work this morning to make it look as clean as possible. 

“No, I don’t think they ever have”, Sansa replied. “Have you heard from Robb recently? I texted him yesterday to arrange a video call, but he didn’t reply until it was really late and said he’d catch up with me later in the week.”

“Not since last weekend”, Jon admitted. “I mean, that’s the last time I spoke to him. I texted him on Saturday morning, maybe? He was talking about spending Sunday at some country pub. I don’t think he’s finding it easy being around Jeyne’s family so much.”

“And knowing Robb, he’s too polite to actually come out and say so.”

“Exactly. Jeyne isn’t her family. And not all of them are awful. I met her brother last winter when he was in White Harbour for a pool tournament and he seemed alright. And she’s close to her father.”

They reached Jon’s car and he held the passenger side door open for Sansa. She smiled at him prettily and he found the way she held her dress when she got in to be nothing short of adorable. Jon was really going to have to deal with his feelings for Sansa properly. 

-

While _Bael the Bard_ was not normally a movie Jon would go out of his way to see, he had to admit that the plot was well thought out, the setting visually stunning, the acting good and the score one that fitted in well with the story. 

As he sat in the diner, perusing his menu and waiting for Sansa to return from the bathroom, Jon was relieved he hadn’t hated the movie. If things were to progress with Sansa, he’d be going to see a lot of movies like this in the future. And it wouldn’t be awful. During the worst ones, he could do what he had done periodically on this occasion and gazed at the wonder in Sansa’s eyes as she watched the movie. 

“Have you decided yet what you want to order?” Sansa asked when she returned to the table. “I think I’ll have the chicken burger. Would you like to split – “

“A portion of sweet potato fries?” Jon finished. Sansa nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great. I think I’ll have a cheeseburger.”

He’d ask them to leave off the salad – mostly so there wouldn’t be onions on it in case things worked out and he kissed Sansa before the night was over. Just because Sansa had been open to him kissing her on Friday didn’t mean she would be again. 

Sansa raised her hand and indicated to the waiter they were ready to order. Once they had done so and their soft drinks had arrived, Jon took a deep breath in and decided they’d put off discussing the elephant in the room for long enough now. 

He leaned forward and took Sansa’s hand in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. Sansa looked a little nervous and Jon said a silent, internal prayer that it was hopeful nervousness she felt. 

“I know I’m not going to say this right”, he began. He was awkward at times, particularly when he liked someone as much as he did Sansa, and Jon knew he might as well admit it. “I just – I just want you to know that I had a good time on Friday night. And I meant what I said in that text. I should’ve started that night the way I ended it. I’d like to do that again. I’d like this to be a proper date. If you don’t want that then we don’t ever need to mention it again – “

“I want it to be a date too”, Sansa was quiet, but her voice cut across his. “I want to give this – to give _us_ – a chance. You make me happy, Jon. You make me smile. And I’m happiest and smile the most when I’m with you.”

“So, this is our first date.”

“This is our first date. Our first of many, I hope. I know it’ll be hard and complicated at times. But I think we’re both worth it”, Sansa finished quietly. 

He knew which complications she spoke of, but how to tell Robb was not something they needed to consider at this very moment. And he told Sansa so. “We could keep it just you and me for now, if that’s something you wanted. I don’t mind who we tell – I know that Sam and Gilly will be delighted when they hear, given how much they liked you and how much they hassled me the moment you went to the bathroom – “

“Really?”

“Really. I hadn’t told anyone that I wanted us to be more than friends, but Gilly said she knew pretty quickly. She and Sam will both be delighted I got off my arse and did something about it. They’re also looking forward to getting to know you better when you move down to White Harbour.”

“I did like them very much – in fact, Gilly was sort of involved in me figuring out how much I liked you.” Jon frowned. Gilly hadn’t mentioned that to him. “No, she didn’t figure me out the way she did you. No, it was when you went to the bar to order our drinks and I saw a woman I had never seen before approach you. I saw you hug her. I saw she meant something to you. And…….I was jealous.”

“I knew I was truly fucked that night you stayed over after we watched Harry Potter”, Jon admitted. “You walked into the kitchen the next morning wearing _my_ clothes after sleeping in _my_ bed with _my_ dog……..I felt a little like a caveman. But, it just seemed like that was the way things were meant to work out, you know? You staying over and coming down for breakfast in the morning.”

He scratched the back of his neck, hoping Sansa wasn’t too freaked out by that admission, but all she seemed to do was smile. 

-

Sansa curled up in bed with the latest Inspector Salladhor mystery book. She enjoyed the light-hearted detective series by Davos Seaworth and this book had only been out for a couple of weeks. As good as the book was, however, Sansa found it hard to concentrate and her mind had a habit of wandering back in time a few hours to her _date_ with Jon.

Yes, she could now call it a _date_. 

Sansa was _dating_ Jon Snow. And she couldn’t be happier. 

They’d chatted for what seemed hours while they ate and it had been a little after ten thirty she’d returned home. As much as she blamed it on the number of trailers before the actual movie started (did everyone think there were more of them each time they went, as she did) and how busy the diner was for a Monday night, she had caught Arya rolling her eyes and her mother seemed to be supressing _something_.

Nevertheless, they had decided to keep everything between the two of them to start off with. To make sure that they were certain before they told anyone. Sansa knew she was certain but understood Jon’s hesitancy. This would take time for a number of people to work through. And she certainly agreed with what Jon had said about it removing pressure from them. 

Sansa’s phone pinged. Jon had sent a picture of himself in bed, with Ghost curled up at his feet. 

_I miss you both._

Sansa wondered if the reply was too forward, even with the ten minutes she’d spent kissing Jon in the front seat of his car after they left the diner. Gods, but that had been glorious. Sansa recalled Theon once teasing Jon about looking pouty, but Sansa could verify first-hand now that those pouty lips came in _very_ handy. 

Her phone pinged again. 

_We miss you, too. Now, we never did get around to talking about which of your siblings is least likely to be a Gryffindor. My money is on Bran – far too intelligent and academically minded to be anything but a Ravenclaw._

Sansa grinned and set her book aside. She wouldn’t be reading tonight. 

She’d be too busy texting Jon Snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for the lovely comments and kudos I have received for this fic! I intend to have SEVENTEEN written and posted by the end of the year and HOPE to have a Christmas-themed one-shot up over the next few days. 
> 
> In the meantime, Happy Holidays to one and all :)


	17. Summerhall

Jon hummed away to the song currently playing on breakfast radio, a smile on his face. It had been a little over a week since he and Sansa had gone on their first date and since then, Jon had almost always had a smile on his face. To be fair, in some ways their friendship had been upgraded rather than changed. They still went on training runs, spent their lunch breaks together and met up in their free time – it was just that this now included him holding Sansa’s hand and kissing her as often as he could. 

They hadn’t told anyone yet. 

His mother might raise an eyebrow when he mentioned Sansa (he knew his tone was different when he said her name) but she had yet to pass actual comment, and Arya rolled her eyes when he and Sansa were in the same space as her, but they had yet to sit anyone down and admit they were in a relationship. His pretty much life-long friendship with Sansa’s brother and the living arrangements for next semester made what they were doing complicated and they wanted to be sure in their relationship before they told anyone. 

Although he would wait as long as Sansa needed him to, Jon was ready to tell everyone. The last fortnight had been one of the happiest in Jon’s life. When Sansa was ready, they would speak to Robb and everyone else. A united front.

The song finished and the DJ began to play another. Jon couldn’t recall the last time he had actually hummed along to as many songs during his morning commute. He wondered if it was down to the summer-substitute DJ having better taste in music or having Sansa in his life.

Jon recalled how Robb and Jeyne had been in the early days of their relationship and decided he and Sansa were probably at least as bad – but more likely a lot worse. 

When this song – a _Direwolves_ one – ended it was dead on eight thirty and Jon listened for the daily news headlines to begin. 

_Stannis Baratheon is at a breakfast campaign event on Massey’s Hook, a Braavosi Trade Delegation arrives today in King’s Landing to discuss a new deal, and the Dornish heatwave has entered week number five. Officials in Sunspear have announced that water restrictions will be in force from today, along with mandatory changes to working hours to prevent sunstroke. All residents are advised to be indoors from the hours of eleven thirty until three. Finally, we will be live in Summerhall later this morning as Rhaegar Targaryen officially cuts the first turf in the new development there._

_To all our listeners in Dorne, please take care and remember to check on any elderly or vulnerable neighbours._

Jon tuned out of the weather forecast and tried to block out the headlines. It would be a lot easier to forget who Rhaegar Targaryen was if the man wasn’t on the news all the damned time. Instead, Jon focused his attention on thoughts of Sansa and their lunch break. 

Although Jon didn’t want to pressure Sansa, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was ready whenever she was – for telling Robb, and for telling the rest of the world. 

When Jon next picked Sansa up for a date, he wanted everyone to know that’s what it was.

-

Sansa found her calf muscle a little tender when she woke up on Wednesday morning. Her Tuesday night run with Jon had been a long one, and she’d found herself more interested in kissing him than warming down properly. 

She couldn’t quite believe how happy Jon had made her. On that train journey home all those weeks ago, Sansa had been focused entirely on moving back to the North and ending her King’s Landing life. A relationship hadn’t been on her radar at all. And then she’d started spending all her time with Jon……

He made her feel fuzzy and warm inside and given the way he kissed, Sansa couldn’t wait to find out _what else_ Jon Snow could do with his tongue. 

They hadn’t gone that far yet. It _had_ only been a little over a week since their first date. At the same time, though, Sansa had known Jon for so long that they had skipped over the initial _getting to know each other_ stage that categorized the early days of most relationships. Since the day she’d admitted to herself that she had more than friendly feelings for Jon Snow, he had been at the centre of Sansa’s fantasies and she was looking forward – though with a little trepidation – to exploring that with him. 

Joffrey had often called her a cold fish, an ice queen, who simply lay there. But Sansa trusted Jon in her bones and she knew he would never even imply that. 

“Perhaps you should leave off the running for a few days if your muscle is still sore”, her father said, cutting across Sansa’s thoughts of Jon. He cut the engine and indicated the hand she had on her calf and Sansa shrugged. Her father perhaps had a point. Sansa was sure she and Jon would find another way to fill their evenings. 

“Maybe. I think I’ll ask Arya for some advice.” She didn’t comment on, but did notice, the small half-smile that appeared on her father’s face at that. Sansa recalled the talks he had given them both when they were younger and seemingly at war with each other on a daily basis.

Her father had been right, but Sansa permitted only a smile of her own as recognition of that now. 

“Come on”, her father chuckled. “We had best begin the working day.”

“Do you have a busy one?” Sansa asked, removing her seatbelt and gathering her things.

“Yes. And not all in the office – I have a meeting at the town hall late morning with someone from the mayor’s office. Jory’s keeping you busy?”

“He is”, Sansa confirmed with a nod. He’d teamed her up with Arra a couple more times now and Sansa – biased though she may be – had found that her own style of working had meshed better with Jon’s, though Arra was both smart and competent. 

She followed her father along the street to the office and inside, looking immediately to see if Jon had already arrived. Sansa smiled at the sight of him bent over a document, highlighter pen raised high in the air. 

Maybe Jon would be amenable to planning something for the evening. 

-

Jon came out of his meeting with Jeor Mormont in a positive frame of mind. The Boggs custody case appeared to be going their way, though there was another court date approaching the following week. One of the aspects of this internship Jon had found himself enjoying the most was the tangible difference he was making in the lives of the people he dealt with. Okay, Jeor was doing most of the heavy lifting in this case, but he’d made it clear to Jon that this was a team effort and he’d undertaken a number of Jon’s suggestions. 

When he got back to his desk, Jon saw that it was almost eleven – and the coffee he’d been drinking when Jeor called for him was now cold. He picked up the _Gryffindor_ mug he’d kept in the office since their second or third day, and headed for the break room. It was usually busy between ten thirty and just after eleven, but Jon didn’t mind having to queue for coffee. 

Sansa wasn’t in sight and perhaps she was in there, waiting for coffee too.

Jon was disappointed when he reached the break room and found that Sansa was not, in fact present. A couple of the admin staff members were there, chattering on a sofa over tea and biscuits, Will and Harry were waiting for the kettle to boil alongside the receptionist, Kyra, and the TV was on in the background.

He rolled his eyes at Harry’s obvious attempts to chat up Kyra and focused instead on thoughts of Sansa, while staring at the TV advert for baby formula. Maybe Sansa would be free this evening. Jon could have a look at the _Wintertown Events_ page on Facebook or have a look at the local newspaper’s website to see if there was something on this evening they could go to. The book store had readings by local authors sometimes, or there could be a band playing. 

His phone was in his pocket – maybe he could check now, while he was waiting?

Or, perhaps Sansa would like a long, country walk with Ghost. Perhaps that would be best – then Jon could have an actual conversation with her. 

The advert for baby formula turned to another for funeral insurance and another for a plastic surgery clinic, and still Jon could hear Harry trying to chat up Kyra. Jon wasn’t sure it would work, given what Myranda had apparently told Sansa. He also suspected Sansa was not the only person Myranda had told about her time with Harry. 

The adverts finished as the kettle came close to the boil. He could hear the two admins gossiping about the latest boxsets they were bingeing on Netflix and Harry complimenting Kyra’s skirt, but his eyes were drawn to the picture on the screen, and the breaking news banner at the bottom. 

_“Welcome back to WNN, Westeros’s premium news channel. You re-join our story at Summerhall where the new Targaryen development was due to be officially underway in a ceremony with CEO Rhaegar Targaryen breaking turf.”_

Jon groaned internally. Maybe he didn’t need coffee after all. 

_“And we go back to our correspondent, Beth Blackwood, who is standing by at Summerhall. Beth, what is happening there? We were expecting the ceremony to get underway, and it did indeed appear to commence before all video feeds were cut. Do we have an explanation yet as to why the Targaryens ordered all outlets to cut the feed?”_

_“We do indeed”_ , the new woman on screen replied. Jon took in her black and white dress and red hair. He took in the vehicles in the background and the commotion around the correspondent. As for taking in what she was saying…….

“Holy _shit_ ”, he heard someone, one of the women, murmur. 

Jon couldn’t take it in. Not really. His eyes were drawn to the new, flashing bar at the bottom of the screen. 

_Property developer Rhaegar Targaryen pronounced dead following heart attack at new Summerhall development._

But…..he couldn’t be. That wasn’t right, was it? Rhaegar was what – in his mid-forties? He seemed relatively healthy looking every time Jon had seen him on TV or in the newspapers. He couldn’t be dead. He simply couldn’t. 

He’d never met Rhaegar in person. He’d never received a letter from him. He’d never spoken to the man. Jon should – but that was the rub, Jon didn’t quite know either how he _should_ feel or how he _did_ feel.

“What?!” Jon jumped at the touch on his arm. He turned and saw Kyra looking at him, concerned. 

“I said that’s the kettle boiled. For your coffee. Jon, are you alright?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak and moved towards the kettle. Harry and Will followed Kyra out of the room and he felt the chatter of the other two women fade. Jon stared at the kettle, unsure again if he wanted the coffee. Or even how to pour it out.

He glanced again at the TV, still unable to take in what was being said, what was happening. 

Jon had never met Rhaegar. The man was a stranger to him. 

The thing was, Rhaegar was also, biologically speaking, his _father_.

-

Sansa closed Ella Whitehill’s door behind her and followed Arra and Myranda back through to the main office area. The case was an interesting one and Sansa looked forward to working through the research, pleased that she and Myranda were finally able to be involved on the same project. Myranda had hinted more than once that she found Sansa’s assignments more interesting than her own.

“I’ll gather together a few things – some books and articles I think will be useful – and we can start in on it after lunch. Myranda, can you speak to Kyra and find out if one of the meeting rooms will be available? A small one. We’ll need to spread out a little and I want space to do that.”

“Will do”, Myranda agreed. “Look, there she is.”

Myranda indicated to the other side of the room, where Kyra was exiting the break room. Harry was on her heels, chattering away – though he seemed to veer off towards his own desk with Will when he caught sight of Myranda. One advantage to Myranda and Harry’s night together was that he seemed now to stay away from Sansa whenever she was in close proximity to Myranda. Sansa wondered how withering her friend’s put down had been if Harry suggested repeating their night – and morning – together. 

“Thank you”, said Arra. She left the two of them, and Myranda hailed Kyra. 

“Could you have a look at the diary for the meeting rooms when you get back to your desk and forward any availability to me, Arra and Sansa?” Myranda asked. “A small one would be fine. We’re working on one of Whitehill’s cases this afternoon and need more space than we’ll get out here.”

“Sure”, Kyra shrugged. “Hey, did you hear the latest on the news? I was just in the break room and they had it on that news channel. Usually boring stuff, but that property guy – the really hot older one with the white hair – Targaryen, that’s it. Yeah, dead. Dead _as a door stop_. Collapsed and had a heart attack at some event for one of his projects. They said on the news that they tried to resuscitate him, but they couldn’t get his heart restarted.”

“He was hot”, Myranda agreed. “Don’t you think so, Sansa? Sansa?”

Rhaegar Targaryen was nothing to Sansa, but his son _was_. 

“I’ve never really thought about it”, she murmured, scanning the room for Jon. He didn’t seem to be at his desk. “I’ll catch up with you later. I have to – I have to make some lunch plans.”

“Lunch plans?” Myranda snorted. Sansa turned to see an incredulous look on her friend’s face. “Your lunch plans do not vary. They consist of two words – _Jon_ and _Snow_.”

Sansa tried to compose herself and get away from Myranda. “I just want to discuss a time – we’ve got that work to do for Ella, and Arra usually takes an early lunch break. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

She left Myranda and went straight over to the bank of desks where the legal interns were situated. She avoided Harry and there was no point asking Arra as she’d been in the same meeting, so Sansa approached Erena’s desk. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but you wouldn’t happen to know where Jon is, would you? I can’t see him – I know he had a meeting with Mormont this morning, but – “

“He’s in the break room”, Will interrupted from her other side. “He was in the queue behind me for the kettle.”

Sansa schooled her features into the impeccable politeness she knew Will was used to and thanked him, but inside her stomach was churning and her heart thumping. Oh, gods. Will had been in the break room at the same time as Kyra. If Kyra knew then so did Will – and so, by extension, would _Jon_.

She walked towards the break room as quickly as she could without attracting attention, desperate to run there in spite of her heels and sore calf. Oh, _Jon_. To hear something like that from a TV report……the loss of a parent, even an estranged one, was something Sansa couldn’t fathom. 

_Was it worse to have shared time with someone and then to lose them, or to know that you’d never get that time?_

Sansa didn’t think asking Jon that would prove productive. 

When she entered the break room, it was to the sight of Jon standing behind a sofa, staring forward at the pictures on the screen. Steam was coming from the _Gryffindor_ mug on the counter beside him, a mug Sansa knew belonged to Jon. His shoulders were rigid and his knuckles white. 

There was a banner in bright letters at the bottom of the screen, confirming what Sansa had known was unlikely to be a mistake on Kyra’s part. _Rhaegar Targaryen dead – Magnate dies at Summerhall event._

“Oh, Jon”, Sansa breathed. 

Jon didn’t seem to hear her, so Sansa closed the door behind her and walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. She murmured his name again, and this time he did seem to hear her. Sansa took in the look of shock and grief in his face and pulled Jon into her arms. She felt him sag into her. 

That look…….she couldn’t ever recall seeing Jon looking so lost. 

“It’s so stupid. I never even met him”, Jon whispered into her neck. Sansa could feel his chest rising and falling against her own, shaking as it did so. She kissed his cheek lightly. 

“It isn’t stupid, Jon. As much as I can’t find the words, stupid is not one of them.” Sansa quickly came to a realization. Nobody could find them like this. Jon and Lyanna had never really discussed his parentage. Sansa was pretty sure her own parents, Robb and Arya were the only four people in Jon’s life other than herself who knew the truth. 

This was most definitely NOT the time for other people to find out – and at the very least, Sansa did not want anyone asking awkward questions. There were too many smart people in this building. 

“My father has a meeting at the town hall, we’ll go to his office”, Sansa murmured. She took Jon’s hand and led him out of the break room, calculating the fastest way to her father’s office that would involve interacting with the fewest number of people. 

Sansa managed to get Jon there, where they were met by Nan, her father’s elderly secretary. The older woman immediately saw there was something wrong with Jon and went round to raise her hand to his forehead. Sansa stood between them, keen to continue the pretext that Jon wasn’t well. 

“Jon is feeling a bit off. I thought he might lie down in my father’s office for half an hour. He should be back soon. Please see that nobody else disturbs us.”

“Of course, Miss Sansa”, Nan replied. “Would you like me to get Mr. Snow some water?”

“That won’t be necessary.” 

Sansa sighed as the door clicked shut behind her. Her father had a leather sofa in the office for more informal meetings with staff, and in case any of the family stopped by. Sansa pulled Jon onto it, next to her. 

“Oh, Jon. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

He looked her in the eye, as sad as she had ever seen him. “But, Sans, I’m not entirely sure how I feel right now myself. I have everything and nothing going through my head. How can you feel like something you’ve never had has been taken away from you? How can you feel like something is missing if it was never there? How can you fix something if there’s no glue to put the pieces back together?”

“I don’t know”, she whispered quietly. 

Sansa placed an arm around Jon’s shoulder and lay his head on her chest. She didn’t know what she was meant to say or do. Only that she wanted to be there for Jon as he had for her. She wanted to be the person he talked this through with. 

She wanted to be the port he came to in this storm. 

Sansa hummed gently and pressed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head. 

-

Jon wasn’t sure how long he had lain in Sansa’s arms, his head resting on her chest as he listened to the thrum of her beating heart, when Ned Stark appeared back in his office. He _did_ see Ned take in the scene before him, Jon cuddled close up to Sansa – clinging on to her for dear life – while she ran her fingers comfortingly through Jon’s hair. 

Ned Stark may have taken in the scene in front of him, but he said nothing to either of them and Jon was grateful for it. 

Jon sat up straight and felt Sansa do likewise. She took his hand in hers and Jon gripped it in thanks. He couldn’t do this alone. 

“I heard the news”, Ned told them. “I’m sorry, Jon. I know it must have come as a shock to you.”

Jon nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak much and so he simply let out a gruff grunt and caressed Sansa’s knuckles with his thumb. 

“I thought it best for us to come in here, out of the way”, Sansa told her father. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He may have been replying to Sansa’s words, but it was Jon that Ned Stark looked at. Jon didn’t know what to say to the man. What could he say? “I do, however, think that you should go home, Jon. Take the rest of the day and as many as you need. I will smooth things over with Jeor and Jory. They needn’t know anything you don’t wish them to. Sansa, sweetheart, I don’t think Jon should be driving today.”

“My….” Jon coughed. “My insurance covers third parties as long as they have insurance of their own. I trust you, Sansa.”

As unprofessional as it may be, Jon found he liked the thought of being at home. He could curl up on the couch with Ghost and try to figure out what this all meant and how he felt about it and –

 _Shit_. 

His _mother_. How could Jon have forgotten about her? He tried to think back to what she’d said that morning about the day ahead……a budget meeting all morning. She’d complained about it. Jon pulled out his phone. There were a couple of missed calls and messages from Robb, which Jon could ask Sansa to respond to, but nothing from his mother. 

“She can’t know”, he murmured softly. Jon stood up. “My mother. I have to go to the hospital and tell my mother. She’s – there’s a big meeting…..she won’t know. I have to be the one to tell her.”

“I’ll come with you”, said Sansa. She stood up and leaned into him. “We’ll stop off there and I’ll drive you both home. Lyanna’s car can stay in staff parking until tonight. If she’s alright with dad and I getting it for her.”

Jon nodded. He found Sansa’s hand and took it again, not bothering to worry if Ned saw. If Sansa didn’t want to say anything to her father then they could pass it off as friendly comfort. As independent as Jon was, as independent as he tried to be, Jon knew Sansa would be there for him as much as he wanted or needed her to be. 

Gods, but he couldn’t put into words what he was coming to feel for Sansa!

“My car keys are on my desk. And my wallet”, Jon told Sansa. She left him with her father, but Ned said nothing of the need Jon seemed to have for Sansa, the way she was clearly anchoring him. 

“Thank you for letting me take the day”, said Jon. He rubbed the back of his neck and yawned, suddenly feeling very sleepy. 

“Take more than the day. Take as many days as you need”, Ned told him, repeating his offer from earlier. “Rhaegar shared your blood, Jon.”

“I never even met him”, Jon shrugged. “I never spoke to him.”

“Now you never will. And that is in itself a kind of grief.”

-

Jon took in a deep breath when Sansa parked his car in the vast, underground car park at Wintertown General. He knew what he needed to do, but that didn’t mean Jon liked it. And he had absolutely no idea what his mother’s reaction would be. Hell, Jon didn’t even know the last time they’d actually spoken to each other. The money offer Jon had turned down had come through some Southron lawyer. 

How much of Rhaegar’s earlier offers had come through a third party? Had his mother spoken to Rhaegar since his birth?

Jon wasn’t even sure what his mother truly thought of Rhaegar now. 

“That’s us here”, Sansa said unnecessarily once she’d cut the engine. 

“Thank you”, Jon told her. He leaned over and kissed her softly. “Thank you for all of this. I know we’ve only just – thank you.”

“Jon, even if the past couple of weeks hadn’t happened, I would still be here. You’re my friend. You may even be my best friend now. I would be here.” Jon swept a thumb across Sansa’s cheek and nodded. 

“Come on.” He took Sansa’s hand and walked up the stairs to the reception area where he’d waited for his mother to finish her shift not a fortnight ago. He’d been high on Sansa that night and this time she was here with him. He waved at one of the nurses about to pass through to the main admit area, where the patients admitted to the ER were treated. 

“Hey, Jon. Haven’t seen you for a while. How are things?”

“Busy summer, Hallie”, Jon muttered. He saw Hallie’s eyes fall to where his hand was still in Sansa’s. “This is my friend Sansa. We – I was looking for my mother. There’s some stuff I need to talk to her about. I know she had a meeting this morning.”

“Another budget bore, she called it. Yeah, she’s still in there. They don’t even let them out for a break. Well, not since the Pathology Nurse Manager almost started a fire when she went for a smoke on the roof one time. They send in coffee and cakes instead. It shouldn’t be too much longer and I can take you guys upstairs.”

Luckily, Sansa was sweet enough to reply to Hallie’s mindless chatter as they were signed in, given visitor passes, and took the elevator the third floor.

“Could you – when I take my mother to tell her about……could you call or text Robb for me, please? I’ve had calls and messages from him. Just tell him that I’m – tell him I’m taking the day and that I’ll be in touch with him soon.”

Jon wasn’t sure how to talk to Robb about it. Robb had known about Rhaegar for years, but there was so much Jon had never told him – unlike Sansa. Sansa had been just the right person for him to open up to. Robb always got so awkward and you couldn’t tell Arya _anything_ without her interrupting at some point or another. 

“I will”, Sansa promised. She let her head fall on Jon’s shoulder. “And you, Jon – anything you want to talk about, I’ll listen to. Even if you want to call me late at night because you can’t sleep.”

“Gods, Sansa…..”

Yeah, Sansa was the one he’d be opening up to. 

The door of the meeting room Hallie had indicated to them opened up, and Jon started to see a lot of people with clipboards and coffee mugs filing out. He recognized the odd face or two from the fundraising day, but the only one he was interested in seeking out was his mother’s. She came out close to last, talking away to a woman with bleached blond hair. 

“Jon?!” she exclaimed, smile on her face when she spotted him. She bid farewell to her colleague and came over to see them. “This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you. Are you – did you want to go for lunch or – hey, Sansa…….Jon?”

Jon swallowed. He let go of Sansa’s hand and took his mother’s. “I need to – there’s something I need to talk to you about. Can we – is there somewhere we can go?”

“Of course.” His mother led him down the hallway to a small room, which Jon guessed with a pang was probably for relatives of patients. Maybe for telling them that their loved ones had passed. It was ironic in a sad way. 

“Is this something to do with you and Sansa?” his mother asked, when they sat down. She’d closed the door and swiped the lock to indicate the room was in use. “You haven’t knocked her up, have you? You’re the best thing to happen to me, but I – “

“Sansa isn’t pregnant”, Jon assured her. Yeah, his mother was _definitely_ aware of the shift in his relationship with Sansa since the start of the summer. “This isn’t about her. It’s……it’s about Rhaegar.”

“Rhaegar?” His mother ducked her head and took a moment before raising it again and looking Jon in the eye. “Has he – has he contacted you, Jon? Him or that lawyer of his?”

“No, he hasn’t.” Jon felt his voice grow gruffer and hoped he could finish before it broke. “He, uh, he was at Summerhall today for some event relating to his development there. It was on the news – he, uhm, uhm, he had a heart attack. They tried to revive him……….but they couldn’t. He’s – Rhaegar’s dead.”

His mother raised a hand to cover her mouth and then made a loud noise Jon had never heard before, nor would he ever be able to find the words to describe, full of what soon became clear was grief. 

Jon quickly pulled his mother into his arms as Sansa had with him, what seemed like forever ago. 

“Ssshhh. Hush”, he murmured, feeling her grab onto the front of his suit jacket. Jon could feel the shuddering sobs before he heard them, vibrating through his chest. They were silent and then they were as loud as the noise she had made. 

Jon tightened his grip. It had always been the two of them against the world, as far back as he could remember. That had never felt as true to Jon as it did in this moment. 

-

Jon wasn’t sure how long they had sat there like that, his mother sobbing wildly into his chest, before she leaned back a little and looked up at him. There was snot pouring from her nose and her eyes were red raw with the tears they had shed. 

Jon had always thought his mother looked so young for her age – but for the first time, he looked at her and saw their age difference. He saw her forty years. Jon grabbed the box of tissues on the table in the middle of the room and handed them to his mother. 

“I just – how can I be this much of a mess when I haven’t spoken to the man in over twenty years?” she asked him. 

“I’ve never spoken to him at all”, Jon replied in a small voice. He thought back on what Ned Stark had said to him. “That doesn’t mean – it’s just a different kind of grief, I guess.”

“I hated him for a very long time. Hell, I’m still mad at him. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t…….” She dissolved into tears again and Jon pulled her back tight against him, knowing full well what she meant. 

He had his answer – she did love Rhaegar. Even now. 

Even when they hadn’t spoken in so long. 

Jon hoped he never went through the same thing. 

“I’m here”, he assured his mother, as he recalled Sansa saying when she soothed him in her father’s office. “I’m here.” Jon held his mother and rocked her for a few moments until she composed herself enough to speak again.

“Jon, I want to go home”, she told him in a small voice. He nodded. 

“Ned’s told me to take the day and however long I need. He – I wasn’t up to driving so Sansa brought us here in my car. She’s going to take us home and then she and Ned will come pick up your car this evening.”

“You’ve got it all planned out.”

“Ned and Sansa planned it out”, said Jon, rubbing his hand up and down his mother’s back as she had always done to him after any childhood upset. “I’m going to shout her now, ask them to page someone for you, and then we’ll go.”

“Hallie”, his mother mumbled. 

“Hallie”, Jon echoed. He slid the door open and waved down the corridor at Sansa. She came over to him, and Jon was grateful that she didn’t immediately ask how his mother was. “Can you go to the desk and ask them to page Hallie Mollen in the ER – that nurse who brought us up earlier? Tell them my mother’s had some bad news if they start a stink about it.”

“Okay.” She grabbed his hand in hers and brought it up to her lips, kissing the knuckles softly. 

She’d done that so much today. Soft touches, a swipe of her thumb, holding his hand, hugging him as tight as she could…….the pain he’d felt at seeing that news report had not abated, but Sansa was the one person who could give him comfort with the smallest touch.

-

“How was Jon?” Arya asked the moment Sansa closed the back door behind her. Her sister and mother were sitting at the kitchen table, clearly waiting for them to return home from the Snow property. Thankfully, Bran and Rickon did not seem to be around.

“Much the same as earlier”, Sansa sighed. She took a bottle of water from the fridge and then sat down next to her sister with a thud. “I told him to call if he needed anything. Jon insisted they would order Pentoshi, but I’m not sure either of them are up to eating much of it. I thought – I thought perhaps I might make a casserole later and take it over tomorrow night, if that’s alright.”

“Of course”, her father assured her.

Jon had hugged her tightly when she knocked on the door to hand over his mother’s car keys. She could feel the deep, shuddering breaths he took and the dampness on his cheeks. Sansa wished she could’ve stayed there, but it wasn’t her place. It would have been as intrusion on Lyanna and Jon’s grief. 

“And Lyanna?” her mother asked. 

“I didn’t see her.” She did not mention how shocked she’d been to see Lyanna earlier, how grief stricken she had been. It had come out of the blue for her as well as Jon. “I’m going upstairs. I promised Robb that I’d let him know when I got back. He wants a video call and I thought I could tell him how Jon is.”

Sansa didn’t mention that Jon had all but pushed off dealing with his best friend to her. No, that would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer tonight. She was sure her father had plenty of them already, after seeing her with Jon this morning and tonight. Her father wasn’t the type to force a confidence, though. 

“I’ll come with you”, said Arya. 

“Okay.” Sansa nodded in agreement but privately wished that her sister had left her alone. If nothing else, she wanted to be free if Jon called – though Sansa supposed she’d have to leave her room later to make the casserole. 

Sansa sent off a quick text to Robb as she walked upstairs, Arya chattering away about telling Gendry she wouldn’t be over to spend the night until later than normal. It made Sansa feel a little guilty about not wanting Arya to come up to her room – Jon was her sister’s friend, Arya’s surrogate older brother and Sansa had to remember that. 

As far as Arya and Robb were concerned, Sansa’s friendship with Jon was relatively new. She had to respect that they were worried for Jon too. 

Sansa booted up her laptop and then heaved a heavy sigh as she sat down on the bed. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how I’m feeling”, Arya agreed. She curled up on Sansa’s bed and looked over at her. “You like him, don’t you? Jon, I mean. You like him as more than a friend.”

Sansa was startled. She knew Arya remained unconvinced that their dinner and a movie the week before wasn’t a date, but her sister hadn’t been this blunt about it before. 

“I don’t really think this is the right time to – “

She was saved by the ringing tone on her laptop that told her Robb’s video call was coming through. Sansa forced a more neutral tone onto her face and turned to look at her big brother on the screen. 

“How is he?” Robb asked, without any preamble. 

“Not brilliant. I think it came as a great shock to him. I think that with Jon and Rhaegar being estranged, part of him doesn’t even know how to feel. Lyanna was……not good.” Sansa still had no words for the mute Lyanna she’d encountered on the drive home. Jon had sat in the back, his arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder. 

“Shit.”

“Yeah, pretty much”, said Arya. 

“I’m going to take dinner over there tomorrow night. Nothing fancy. I’ll tell Jon that I spoke to you. He isn’t really up to speaking too much just now. He told me to tell you that he will be in touch. He just……it’s hard.”

“How are things in Lannisport?” Arya asked. “You don’t text as much as you did when you first went there. Forgotten us?”

Sansa caught a cagey look on Robb’s face. “I’ve been busy. So has Jeyne. We’ve – it’s been a busy time. A lot of things going on. A lot of hours to put in at the office, you know.”

“Make sure you don’t forget about us. It isn’t long until you’re home, though. Only a few weeks.” Sansa tried to be less blunt and discouraging about it all. Her sister had always lacked a filter – more so drunk than sober. 

“You’ll text me tomorrow night, after you’ve been over to see Jon? I want to make sure he’s alright.” Sansa held her tongue and refrained from telling Robb that _Jon’s father had just died_ and therefore it would probably take longer than a day for him to be _alright_. 

“I will do”, she promised. “I – Jon was good to me over the WHU transfer, coming down with me the day I had my interview. I want to make sure that I pay that back. Jon is a good friend – a _great_ friend – and they don’t come around very often.”

Sansa had learned that well enough in King’s Landing. 

“He is”, Robb agreed. “He’s pulled me through a lot of shit over the years. Do what you can to help him, Sans. For me as much as yourself.”

“Of course.”

Once Jon was past the initial stages of his grief and back at work, she’d have to speak to him about telling Robb. 


	18. Aftermath

Jon gave up trying to sleep somewhere around five thirty. He hadn’t managed more than an hour or so without waking up since going to bed around midnight and this disturbance seemed to be less likely to end in sleep than the rest. He stretched out, reaching for Ghost, before remembering he wasn’t there. Ghost had, seeming to understand she needed him more than Jon, gone to bed with his mother last night. 

He pulled on the first t-shirt he could find and padded downstairs to the kitchen, deciding a good dose of caffeine would be in order. Jon was starting to understand Ned’s suggestion that he take more than a day away from the office. He put the kettle on to boil and resisted the temptation to turn on the TV and one of the 24-hour news channels. 

Gods, all those times he had complained about Rhaegar being on TV or mentioned on the radio, and switched it off. All those times he had changed the conversation. All those times he had tried to act as if Rhaegar was nothing to him. 

Perhaps if he had taken the money – taken it but not used it – would it have been different? Would Rhaegar still have stayed away? Jon had thousands of questions and no way to answer them.

Jon rubbed his eyes, realizing he’d need to wear his glasses today rather than contacts. His eyes were too heavy. The kettle boiled, and he poured himself a strong black coffee. Jon had given up smoking a few years ago, but still felt a craving for it from time to time – usually on a night out. He felt a craving for it now. 

Trying to ignore his craving, Jon went over to the back door and opened it, letting in the dewy morning air. It didn’t really get properly dark in the North in summer – not the pitch black darkness that characterized the depths of winter – and he could see the sun rising higher in the sky to the east. 

A new day was dawning and it brought home to Jon how the vague ideas he had in his head of Rhaegar one day making contact and suggesting they be in each other’s lives in some real way…..they were never going to happen. He’d never had a relationship with Rhaegar, and now he never would. 

And that was what Jon was finding it hardest to deal with. He’d always been alright with not knowing Rhaegar. After all, Rhaegar hadn’t seemed to want to know anything about Jon other than whether he was provided for financially. Rhaegar hadn’t seemed to want to know what Jon’s favourite colour or TV show was; hadn’t seemed to want to know if there was a girl in Jon’s life or what he planned to do with the rest of it. 

But now, Rhaegar would never know those things. And Jon would never be able to ask Rhaegar those questions either. There would be nothing between them. _Nothing_. Not _ever_. Neither Jon nor Rhaegar could ever make it right. 

After he’d picked at the Pentoshi take-out the night before, Jon had turned on the TV to see a news report on Rhaegar’s death. Some correspondent or other listing his achievements and referring to his family. His wife and children. His mother. All the sympathies sent to them. There was no more a place for Jon in that report than there had been for him in Rhaegar’s life. _The forgotten son_.

Jon sipped slowly on the coffee as he watched the sun rise higher, letting the caffeine course through him. He’d need that, to get through the day, to be whatever his mother needed him to be. Hells, but this was a mess! And for once, Jon really didn’t know what to do next. 

He wondered when would legitimately not be too early to text or call Sansa. He needed to hear or read her comforting voice. She had been the light in his day yesterday, and so, so supportive. Jon knew he’d need that in the days and possibly weeks ahead. How could a person become so essential to another in the space of just a few weeks? He’d even pushed off speaking to Robb onto her – that was something he felt guilty about and something he needed to rectify later. 

Jon decided to shoot Robb a text later in the morning. They should talk at some point today, if there wasn’t anything keeping him busy after work – no dinner with Jeyne’s family or anything. 

The cup wasn’t endless and Jon soon realized he’d finished his coffee. Sighing, he went back inside to pour another and found he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. 

His mother looked like she’d had even less sleep. 

Jon left the back door open, allowing Ghost to slip out into the back yard to take care of business. He watched as his mother took a seat at the kitchen table and lowered her head, running her fingers through her long hair. 

“I couldn’t sleep”, she told him unnecessarily. “I just sort of lay there, thinking, trying to imagine how he looked the last time I saw him. Trying to match it up with the image they had on the TV screen last night. Fuck, Jon.”

She started crying again and Jon could do nothing but wrap his arms around her. His mother had been there for him since the moment he was born. All he could do was be there for her now. The numbness wouldn’t go away, but concentrating on his mother helped. Feeling like he was actually doing something helped. 

“I was going to make another cup of coffee”, he said once this burst of tears had subsided. “Do you want one?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. I don’t think I could eat anything, but I could manage a coffee.”

Jon went over to the kettle and set it to boil again. He looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It read six fifteen. 

-

“So, what’s up with Jon?” Sansa hadn’t been in the office for ten minutes before Myranda approached her, looking for information on why Jon wasn’t to be found.

“He’s still a bit under the weather”, Sansa replied, continuing the pretext she’d come up with yesterday when taking Jon into her father’s office. It was the easiest thing to do, stick with the current story. It also wouldn’t tie Jon suffering the loss of his father on the same day as Rhaegar Targaryen’s death. Not that Sansa expected anyone in the office would put two and two together and get four on Jon’s parentage, but still. It was better to be safe than sorry. 

“In that case you can come to lunch with me today”, Myranda informed her. “I’ll take advantage of Snow’s absence while I can. Are you about ready? I think Arra wants to get started on the stuff for Ella Whitehill pretty sharpish.”

“Almost. I just want to go and fill up my water.” Sansa indicated her chill bottle and went over to the water cooler, her mind consumed with thoughts of Jon. 

He had called her a little after seven, when he knew she’d be up – he’d failed to answer her question on how long _he’d_ been awake and it had left Sansa worrying over whether he’d had any sleep at all. Sansa intended to text him over her lunch break, perhaps even phone him if she could escape Myranda long enough, and see how he was getting on. 

Sansa would see him tonight anyway. After speaking to her brother the night before, Sansa had gone downstairs and used what she could find in the fridge to make a chicken casserole for Jon and Lyanna. She planned to take it over after her own dinner – she didn’t want Jon or Lyanna to feel they had to invite her to stay and eat it with them. 

She knew their burgeoning relationship would possibly take a bit of a back seat for the next while, but Sansa didn’t mind. Her priority now was being there for Jon. He had looked after her and now it was her turn to look after him. 

While the water cooler filled her bottle to the brim, Sansa also considered Arya’s words. Clearly she was completely obvious in her attraction to Jon. When Jon was past the fog he found himself mired in at present, it would be her sister as well as her brother that they would need to clue in on their relationship. 

Sansa had never considered much how it might impact Arya…..not until she’d had to consider Arya’s concern for Jon in the wake of Rhaegar’s death. But the tone in her sister’s voice hadn’t sounded disappointed. 

_“You like him, don’t you? Jon, I mean. You like him as more than a friend.”_

It had sounded more like Arya had completed a _puzzle_. 

Sansa went back over to her desk and started to pull together her laptop, files and notepads. There was a lot of research involved in Ella Whitehill’s case and perhaps it would allow Sansa to immerse herself in work and move her mind away from worrying about Jon. 

-

“It’s good to see you”, the Robb on screen told him. “Jon, I can’t even begin to say – to think – “

“I know”, Jon replied. 

He’d texted Robb mid-morning and had a reply at lunchtime, suggesting a video call when he returned to his rented apartment after work. Jon had readily agreed, needing an escape from the living room where he had spent the entire morning watching crap TV with his mother – and feeling more than a little guilty about not speaking to Robb the day before. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t up to calling yesterday”, Jon apologized. He’d known Robb for almost twenty years. He owed him that. 

“Don’t worry about it. Sansa called after she dropped off Lyanna’s keys. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved that she was working at dad’s firm for the summer. If I couldn’t be there then at least there was someone you could talk to. Finding out like that and not having someone there……shit, man.” Robb simply shook his head. 

Jon hoped Robb would feel the same if he knew exactly how close him and Sansa had become since his departure for the Westerlands. 

“Your dad was pretty great too.” Robb got a sad smile on his face at that, echoing Jon’s thankfulness for Ned’s support and the fact that it was _his own father_ that Jon had lost. “It would have been so, so much more complicated if I’d had a boss that didn’t know. To have to tell someone yesterday – a stranger – who knows if they would even have believed me, you know?”

“I never thought about it that way.”

“How are things with you?” Jon needed a distraction, if possible. And he felt like he and Robb hadn’t had a real conversation in ages. 

“Not too bad. Also, I was wondering…..all this Rhaegar stuff……would you mind if I told Jeyne? She knows something happened, but not what. I told her I needed to ask you first.”

 _Nice way to skip out on what’s happening with you._ “Yeah. Yeah, you can tell her. I trust Jeyne. Just – just make it clear to her that nobody else can know. Especially not now. I know what the Westerosi press is like. Now he’s dead, they’ll be looking to tear Rhaegar down. And that puts a nice big target on me.”

 _Knocking up a sixteen year old, albeit one who lied about her age, while your own youngest is less than a year old, that’s a good scandal for them. And I will make sure my mother is_ NOT _put through it._

Jon could hear a shout on the other side of the video and realized it was Jeyne, back from work. It only took a few moments for her to appear on the screen. Jon’s first thought was that she looked drawn and tired. So did Robb, for that matter. What in all seven hells was going on down there? 

“Hey, Jon. It’s been a while.”

“It has.” He decided to keep the conversation light. “How’s work going? You been busy?”

“Not too bad. The people are mostly great but I’m not too sure about working for such a big firm when I graduate. I think something smaller, more Northern.” Jon smiled. “How are you? Robb said there’s some stuff going on but he wouldn’t tell me any more than that.”

“I told Robb he can tell you. Only you, though. Any plans to – “

Jeyne’s phone started to ring. “My dad. I – I guess I should take this. I’ll – Hey, dad, how are you? Good? A dinner party? I see you’re the……when? Who? No……no…..I think we’re busy that day.”

Jeyne disappeared out of sight, still chattering away to her father. 

“Sansa said she’d come over later”, he told Robb, unsure what to say next. “She’s been really great. She’s a great listener.”

This was not the time to tell Robb. 

“Yeah, Sansa has always been cool that way. So much more sympathetic than Arya.”

“I should go now. I – I want to go and check on my mother.”

“How is Lyanna?” Robb asked. Jon swallowed and tried to think of a response. How could he tell Robb that he’d spent the day watching _Down in Dorne_ on the sofa with his mother, while she covered herself in a blanket, cried periodically, and cuddled herself into him and Ghost, needing that human contact?

“Not good”, Jon decided on. “It was a shock for her.”

_Also, I don’t think I ever realized until yesterday that part of her has been in love with Rhaegar all these years._

-

“That’s me heading over to Jon’s”, Sansa told her parents a little after they’d finished dinner. It had just been the three of them. One of Rickon’s friends had a birthday and was celebrating with a gaming marathon, Bran was at an Astronomy talk at Wintertown U and Arya had gone straight from her summer camp job to stay at Gendry’s for the night. Sansa wondered sometimes exactly how long it would take for Arya to move in there on a permanent basis.

Sansa had gone upstairs after dinner and changed into a more casual lemon sundress and white sandshoes – as well as responding to a text from Robb, letting her know that he’d spoken to Jon. Robb mentioned Jon had praised her, but stopped short of implying there was anything more to it – unlike Arya, who thankfully had not raised the topic a second time.

Sansa brought the casserole out of the fridge, transferred it to a new dish, and got herself some water. There were butterflies in her stomach at the thought of seeing him. It had only been a day, but they’d quickly reached a point where a day was a long time for her to go without seeing Jon. 

“Would you like me to come with you?” her mother asked. 

“I’ll be fine”, Sansa shook her head. “But, I’ll ask Jon if Lyanna could do with a visitor tomorrow.”

She wasn’t sure how Lyanna would be. Sansa had seen her happy and laughing at nights out and when Jon and Robb played games before leaving home to study. Sansa had seen her scream when Arya and the boys ran after Lyanna with water soakers one summer years ago. Sansa could recall the light tears Lyanna had shed the day Jon and Robb went off the WHU for the first time. But she could never, ever recall seeing Lyanna as frail and broken and fragile as she had been after Jon had told her of Rhaegar’s death. 

Sansa wanted to leave this to Jon’s judgement. He knew his mother better than anybody else. 

“I’ll see you later.” She grabbed her bag, phone and the keys to her father’s car, before carefully collecting the casserole dish and headed for the garage. It was not a long drive to Jon and Lyanna’s home and Sansa filled it with thoughts of Jon. 

She’d texted him a few times during the day and they’d spoken briefly at lunchtime, when Myranda had gone to the bathroom at Gage’s and Sansa had called to say she’d be over this evening. He had sounded a little better than when they’d spoken just before midnight, when she called to say goodnight – and more awake than this morning – but still down and shocked and more than a bit lost.

When Sansa reached Jon and Lyanna’s house, she pulled up next to Lyanna’s small red car, the one her father had driven there from the hospital. Although it was after seven, it was as light as had been in the middle of the day and no lights were on – though Sansa did notice that most of the curtains were drawn. 

Jon answered before she could knock on the door. He moved towards her and then took in the casserole dish. Sansa laid it down on the step for a moment and pulled him into a tight hug. She could only hope that Jon found _her_ hugs as comforting as she did _his_. 

She ran her fingers up and down his back, trying to bring him comfort, and felt Jon sigh into her neck. When he pulled away and followed Sansa inside with the casserole dish in her hands, she could feel his warm hand on the small of her back. 

Although she had seen the curtains drawn it still shocked her to see the darkness and gloom of the living room Sansa had only ever seen as being light and airy, even the night she’d come over to watch _Harry Potter_ and it had been dark out by the time the movies were finished. Lyanna sat on the sofa next to Ghost, who perked up and woofed as soon as he saw Sansa. 

“Hi”, Sansa said in a small voice, unsure what to say. “I uhm, I brought a casserole. Chicken. I made it last night. I thought it might save you cooking. You just need to heat it up.”

Sansa moved closer to Lyanna and Ghost and patted the sweet little pup. 

“Thank you”, Lyanna told her, looking up. Her eyes were rimmed with red and Sansa wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Lyanna looking this – not old, exactly, but _not young_. 

“I’ll take Sansa’s casserole through”, Jon offered. “Do you – would you like a coffee?”

“No. No, I’m fine for now. You two go through to the kitchen. I think I’m going to run a bath.” Lyanna left them. Sansa watched Jon watch her go up the stairs and saw the agony in his face. He was clearly worried about her. 

“Here, I’ll take that”, said Jon when Lyanna was out of sight. He took the dish from Sansa’s hands and she felt tingles when their fingers brushed. Sansa shook herself out of that and followed Jon into the kitchen. This wasn’t the time or the place for her thirst for Jon to come out. 

“A half hour or so in the oven should warm it up for you. I hope it’s alright.”

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing. You made it.”

Sansa could feel herself blush as Jon sighed. He sat down at the kitchen table and lowered his head, running his fingers through his hair. She went over to him, taking the next seat along and running her hands up and down his arm. 

_Gods, but Jon’s arms!_

“Hey”, she murmured. Jon turned and kissed her. Sansa wrapped her arms around Jon, running her fingers through his tight, dark curls while their tongues danced. She moaned into his mouth at the intensity of the kiss, feeling how much Jon wanted and needed this as she did. 

Sansa wanted to spin round, to hook her leg around Jon’s hip and grind against him. She wanted his hands, now on her back, to slip upwards towards her breasts and cup them through her dress. But this was neither the time nor the place. 

“Hey”, Jon murmured in response when they pulled apart, his voice deep and gruff. He pressed his lips lightly to hers, just for a moment, and then pulled back again. “I’ve missed you. This is just, well, hell to be honest and you are like the light in my day right now.”

“If you want to talk then I’m fine with that”, Sansa told him. Ghost came through then, interrupting them, and went over to the back door. He scratched against it and Jon got up. 

“You want out again, boy?” Ghost woofed at Jon’s approach and bounded outside the second the door opened. He turned back and looked at her. “I haven’t been able to take him for a good long walk today. Or since yesterday morning, really. He’s just been going outside whenever he needs to do his business. Come on. We can stand outside and watch him play.”

Jon held out his hand to her and Sansa moved up, going to take it.

-

Jon took Sansa’s hand in his and led her out to the back yard, where Ghost was pissing against the side fence. There was something domestic about it, bizarrely. He leaned back against the wall with Sansa in front of him, and wrapped his arms around her. Jon breathed in Sansa’s flowery perfume and nuzzled in her neck. 

“Is this alright?” he murmured. 

“ _Yes_.” It was quiet, almost imperceptible and breathy, but it was there. Sansa leaned back further and Jon hoped that was all the movement she’d make. He was perilously close to getting hard in spite of the day he’d had and the mess he was in. 

But then, having Sansa here almost seemed to wash the pain away. At least to hide it for a while. 

“I missed you today”, he admitted to her. 

“I missed you”, Sansa replied. She moved forwards and then turned to face him. Jon dropped his hands, rubbing circles on her hips and keeping Sansa at arm’s length. “How – what – I know things are beyond shitty at the moment. I don’t even know how to ask……just……what’s in your head now?”

Jon swallowed. “You. And, just, this clusterfuck I’m finding myself in right now. Not because of you – you’re the good thing here and now. Just – Rhaegar. I was checking my phone in case Robb or you had texted me, or Sam had been in touch about whatever, and there was a news website notification about the funeral. It’s Monday. And I was thinking I should go……only, I don’t – “

Everyone else he knew would’ve said something, but Sansa simply stood there and waited for him to collect his thoughts. 

“I’m not sure about leaving my mother. You saw her. She’s not functioning properly and there’s no way in hell that she could or should come with me. I don’t know anyone there and I know I’d likely not be welcome if they realize who I am – at least by his wife, if she even knows of his existence – and it’s so far away, on Dragonstone, and he’s never come here to see me. He never _came_ here to see me, I mean. And – and – and – the thing is, though, I need some closure, Sans. I need some fucking closure and maybe that’s a way of getting it.”

Sansa nodded and reached up to tuck some of his unruly curls away behind his ear. Jon took in a deep breath, feeling all clogged up emotionally. It was almost as if she knew he wasn’t finished speaking. 

“And I don’t want to wake up in ten or twenty or thirty years from now and regret that I didn’t go. I don’t want to – if I ever have a child, I don’t want to look into his or her eyes for the first time and regret that I didn’t say goodbye to my own father. Even if we never spoke a word to each other.”

“I think you should go. I think it would be good for you to grieve, to heal”, Sansa told him. “I agree. You’re right. I think part of the reason you’ve been so affected by this is _because_ you’ve let your relationship or lack thereof fester for so long.”

“Thank you. For supporting me”, Jon murmured. He moved his hands to Sansa’s back and took a step forward, moving into her space. Jon kissed her lightly on the forehead and then hugged her tightly. He was so, so lucky to have Sansa and her support. It didn’t do anything for him to try and contemplate how much he’d be even more of a mess without her here. 

“My mother asked me to find out if yours was up to a visitor tomorrow. She could check on Lyanna while you’re on Dragonstone. You’d only need to be away for a night. Fly down the day before, and then get the red eye back after the service. Rickon could walk Ghost – he needs to get away from those blasted video games of his.”

That elicited a smile from him. “You’re pretty amazing, Sansa Stark. It’s a lot to ask.”

“You never played football for Wintertown High, but you went to all Robb’s home games. _I_ probably missed one of Arya’s meets more recently than you did. They think of you as a brother. You’ve never had a problem with Bran or Rickon hanging out with you and Robb and you’ve done so much for me over the last few weeks. Let us be there for you now.”

She looked so earnest that Jon wanted to pull her into his arms, even closer, and never let go. Instead, he simply nodded, unsure what to say. 

“And……you won’t be going to Dragonstone alone either. I’m coming with you.”

“What? Sansa, no. I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too much.”

She raised her hand and swiped a thumb over his beard. “You came to White Harbour with me. Let me come to Dragonstone with you. And you didn’t _ask_ , Jon Snow. I _offered_.”

He wanted to tell her that a day trip on the train and hanging around campus for an hour while she had her interview was nothing compared to the prospect of Sansa flying to the other end of Westeros and coming with his to the funeral of his estranged father. But…..she had that look on her face, one he had seen seldom on Sansa and more often than not on Arya and Robb. It was a look that told him resistance was futile and her Stark stubbornness would outlast any protests he may have. 

And so, Jon simply laid down conditions. She may be coming with him, but he was paying for this. 

“Okay. I’ll book us flights and a couple of rooms at one of the hotels on the island. Thank you, for even offering Sansa. I mean it. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve – “

“What did I do to deserve you? What did any of us do to deserve anyone? Sometimes, we’re just lucky enough to find someone amazing, that’s all.”

Jon couldn’t find anything he could say to oppose that, so he simply held Sansa tight and they kept a companionable silence until Ghost had finished his business and they went back inside. Jon went upstairs then, to grab his laptop and wallet. He could hear his mother sobbing lightly in the bath and thought again that he couldn’t leave her. 

Jon could only hope she’d be better by Sunday. Better by enough for him to be comfortable with Catelyn Stark dropping in a couple of times to check on her. 

The airline website was, thankfully, easy to navigate. Jon had only flown a couple of times before, and one of those was a particularly dodgy one into Pyke, when he and Robb had gone to stay with Theon for a few days during under-grad. The less Jon recalled about that the better, he decided, when he mentioned it briefly to Sansa. 

“Here we are”, said Sansa, pointing at the flights offered. “There’s one on Sunday afternoon. It leaves at lunchtime and gets into Dragonstone just before three. And the next day, there’s a flight back at seven. The last one of the day. Mostly for business people, I’d guess.”

Jon clicked on the two flights Sansa had spotted and booked adjacent seats for them. He didn’t want to end up next to a stranger, not now that it was clear he wouldn’t have to do this alone. Sansa protested at him paying for the flights and then again when he came to book the hotel. 

“Two rooms?” Jon hoped he heard the disappointment in her tone. 

“Adjoining.” He pointed at the screen. “I don’t want you to think – we’ve only been together a little over a week, Sansa. I don’t want you to think that I expect anything from you. I’m happy to wait until we’re both ready.”

He didn’t want to say that his cock had been more than ready for longer than they’d been together – or that he’d fantasized about spending hours going down on her for longer than that. 

“Okay.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and leaned in, their foreheads touching. “Okay.”

-

Sansa was emotionally exhausted when she returned home after her evening at Jon’s. It was a little past nine when she cut the engine in her father’s car and walked through to the main house. Though it had been easy telling Jon that she would come to Dragonstone with him, Sansa knew it may prove more difficult to tell her family. 

Arya already thought her half in love with Jon (and she was) and she knew her father had seen how closely entwined she was with Jon in his office – not to mention her mother’s assumption her dinner and movie theatre trip with Jon was a date. All of these things were true, but Sansa didn’t want to admit that without Jon there and without his consent. It made everything so much more complicated.

No, Jon was her friend. And she was going with him. 

Her parents were in the family room, watching a re-run of an old sitcom from their youth – one Sansa had seen over and over again. She sat down on the sofa and waited for an advert break to speak to them. Her mother, in tune with Sansa, muted the TV as soon as the perfume advert came on. 

“How were Jon and Lyanna?” she asked. 

“Jon is slightly better than yesterday – more coherent. Lyanna is……” Sansa wasn’t sure how to describe Lyanna other than _broken_. “It has come as a great shock to her and I think she’s had the fact he’s Jon’s father swirling around her head for years – this has forced her to deal with it – to think of him.”

It sounded so much better than _I think she still loved him but I didn’t have the nerve to ask Jon_. 

“Any death in such a young person is a shock”, her father offered. “I hope Jon understands that he has my leave to return only when he feels able to do so.”

Sansa nodded. “He appreciates everything you’ve said.” She took in a deep breath and then let it out. “Jon – he – he’s booked to go down to Dragonstone for the funeral on Monday. I think it’ll help him with the grieving process. I – I said I would go with him. He needs a friend there. Robb isn’t…….he couldn’t leave Jeyne, I don’t think…..and Arya would never be able to get time off. None of his friends from White Harbour know and Lyanna – it wouldn’t be a good idea for her to go.”

She hoped that somewhere, in there, she had made enough sense for her parents to understand _why_ she was going with Jon – without admitting they were in a relationship.

Her parents exchanged a look Sansa couldn’t interpret. 

“I understand why he wishes to go”, her father told her. He stood up and came to sit next to Sansa. “Are you sure you’re – that you want to go? There will be a lot of people there and you never know who you might meet.”

Sansa gulped. This was the closest either of her parents had come to telling her that they had some inkling of what had happened in King’s Landing. Did they _know_? Did they merely _suspect_?

“I promised Jon”, she said. “He came to White Harbour for me to help me with my interview. I want to help him now. Jon shouldn’t go down there alone, and there’s nobody else who knows that can go with him.”

-

It had caused more than one debate in the family, but when Sansa checked in for her flight to Dragonstone alongside Jon, she felt that she was most definitely doing the right thing. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought the family opinions varied between those who thought she considered Jon more than a friend, and those who thought Jon considered _her_ more than a friend. 

All Sansa knew was that nobody had been able to fault her logic: among those who knew of Jon’s parentage, nobody thought he should be going to Dragonstone for Rhaegar’s funeral alone. Even Lyanna thought it a good idea. 

When Sansa had picked Jon up with her father on Sunday, she seemed to have improved upon the vision of despair Sansa had encountered on Wednesday and Thursday. In any case, Sansa’s offer to Jon would come right. Rickon would take Ghost on a couple of long walks and her mother would call in to check up on Lyanna. Even if it meant simply dropping off a stew for dinner. 

As they left the security area, Sansa sighed and linked her arm with Jon’s. “In spite of the circumstances, is it wrong for me to be looking forward to us spending some time together away from everyone else?” Her voice was small and Sansa hoped he understood that she hadn’t seen this night away as simply an opportunity to jump his bones. 

“I know what you’re saying. And yes……the circumstances are beyond not good, but I’m looking forward to us having some time to ourselves. I was – I DID think maybe we might take a couple of days late summer, but it depends on what we’ve got time for”, Jon replied. 

Sansa smiled at Jon and kissed him softly. She wasn’t about to say it, but she was very much looking forward to spending a night in close proximity to Jon away from their parents, friends and relations. Two days, sort of, in which they could simply be _Jon and Sansa_. It might be wrong given the circumstances, but part of Sansa wanted something to happen on this trip. 

She wanted Jon to hold her in his arms all night. She wanted to wake up in the morning to find his lips on her neck and his hand cupping her breast; his leg interlocked with hers and his cock pressing up against her arse. 

Gods, but Sansa wanted that. She wanted everything. She wanted _Jon_. 

“I hope our flight is on time”, she told him, seeking out innocuous conversation. 

“Yes, definitely”, Jon agreed. “Are – Sansa – are you sure everyone’s alright with this?”

“I am”, she agreed. “I did tell them you’d booked _two_ rooms.” That had shut Arya up – for now, at least. 

“One day, I’ll take you away properly”, Jon promised again. He wrapped his arms around Sansa and kissed her neck. She had to force herself not to moan as he did that. Gods, she had to stop herself from doing that so often.

_Would all passengers for flight WA1759 to Dragonstone please make their way to Gate 17. The departure for this flight is currently on schedule. I repeat, departure is currently on schedule._

“We should make a move”, said Sansa. They were currently in the lounge, sipping on glasses of wine Jon had bought them on the premise that he wasn’t a good flier and needed a little help along the way. 

“We should”, Jon murmured. He pulled her in close to him again and kissed her neck once more. Sansa whined and wished for what must be the twentieth time since she’d arrived at Jon’s with her father that this was more than simply a trip to a funeral. She wished this was a proper weekend away for her and Jon. 

Happy was not a word Sansa could use to describe the reason for this trip, the opportunity to spend time along with Jon, but – though it’d fill her with guilt to say so – it was definitely a word she would use to describe how she felt at the thought of having him to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2020 to all :)


	19. Dragonstone

“I have two rooms booked under Snow”, Jon told the woman at reception. He handed over the booking information Sansa had printed out for him. She took the paper and noted the reference number against something on her computer. 

Jon held Sansa’s hand tightly in his and felt her rub soothing circles on his palm. The flight hadn’t been as bad as the one he’d taken to Pyke, but it still had him dreading getting up in the air again in less than thirty six hours. It felt as if his stomach was still several thousand miles up.

“Nineteen and twenty are adjoining rooms on the second floor”, the receptionist, whose nametag read Baela, informed him. She fidgeted with her short blond hair and smiled at them both. “Dinner is served in the main dining room between 6pm and 9pm, and breakfast is served there between 6am and 9am. I can see that you selected the option for a late check out.”

Baela handed keys to both him and Sansa and wished them both a pleasant stay. 

“If you require anything further, you can pick up the telephone handset in your room and press one. That will get you through to reception directly. Enjoy your stay at _Matilda’s Hull_.”

“Thank you”, Jon replied. He and Sansa had only brought one small suitcase each – after all, they were only staying for the one night – and so they walked up to the second floor and quickly located the rooms they had been given. 

They went into nineteen first, and found a modest, well-appointed room with a double bed and a sea view. It seemed to have been decorated recently and Jon was relieved the hotel reviews he had read online appeared to be accurate thus far. She had come so far to support him that Jon wanted the two days to be as comfortable for Sansa as possible. 

There was a door in the corner that Sansa pointed out to him. “That must lead to the other room; to twenty.” They lay down their suitcases and went to open the door, but soon found it was a dual mechanism, intended to only be opened if action was taken on both sides. Jon left Sansa there, went into twenty and then opened the door from that side. 

“Let’s see what twenty looks like”, she murmured, walking past him. Jon hadn’t really taken in much of what the second room had looked like. He turned now and saw it was much the same as the other.

“Which would you prefer?” he asked Sansa. She shrugged.

“I don’t really mind too much, to be honest. We don’t need to decide now, do we?”

“I suppose not.” Jon sighed and sat down on the bed. It had been a long few days. How were they to fill the time between now and the funeral? “Would – would you like to go for a walk down by the harbour before dinner?”

The fresh air would do him good; work off the nausea that lingered in his mouth from the flight. 

“Why not? We can work up an appetite for dinner.”

They had passed the harbour on the way to the hotel. It was only a few minutes on foot and it didn’t take half the time for the fresh air to fill Jon’s lungs and expunge the nausea air travel wrought in him. He took Sansa’s hand the moment they went outside. There was a freedom to being here, to not wondering if they’d see someone they knew and have to answer awkward questions. 

“It’s not as pretty as White Harbour”, Sansa commented with a smile. 

“But then, we are biased”, Jon replied. He looked out at the ships gathered, and found they were greater in number and variety than he was used to, though he only went down to the White Harbour pier once or perhaps twice a week. 

“I’m looking forward to moving down there.” They stopped off at a free bench and took a seat. “I’ve been looking through the coursework information that Harma Doghead sent through to me – the make-up classes I need to take and the other modules I’ll be doing next year. It’s got me excited about studying literature again. And I can’t wait to take classes in the Old Tongue!”

“You’ll have to teach it to me”, said Jon. He tried to push aside the images of a half-naked Sansa reciting random words in the Old Tongue while they lay ensconced in bed together on a lazy Sunday.

Jon wrapped an arm around Sansa and gazed out to sea. He had never thought much about the sea before. The miles and miles of nothingness. In all honesty, it wasn’t that much more appealing to him than air travel. 

For all he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing, there was a part of Jon that wondered what in the name of all seven hells he was doing here. _Dragonstone_ was not his place. The _North_ was his place. It was his home, not this island. Never here. It was so strange on Dragonstone, so different from what he was used to. In his entire life, Jon did not think he had spent more than a total of three or four weeks outside the North. 

In another life, this could have been where he came for holidays. 

In another life, this could have been where he visited _family_. 

-

After dinner, Sansa suggested watching a movie in an attempt to force the two of them into something resembling normality. It was the strangest trip she had ever been on. She recalled going to the Riverlands as a schoolgirl for Grandpa Hoster’s funeral. There had always been something to do, even if it was helping her mother prepare sandwiches and hand round cakes and tea when the endless stream of friends and neighbours visited to offer condolences. Here, she and Jon didn’t seem to quite know how to pass the time. 

They were here for a _funeral_ , not a vacation. 

After their walk and a debate on who was to sleep in which room, they had gone downstairs to the main dining room for a dinner in which they – by unspoken mutual consent – kept conversation relatively light, debating which university and course would finally win Bran’s vote the following year, and how long it would take for Robb to propose to Jeyne. 

Finally, when they had drunk the last of the bottle of white wine they’d decided to share, and split a slice of chocolate cake, Sansa recalled channel seven was repeating _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ and suggested watching it. 

They went into room twenty, which Jon had decided, on reflection, was slightly the larger of the two and insisted Sansa take. Jon stretched, yawning widely, and Sansa wondered if he’d be awake long enough to see Sirius escape on Buckbeak. 

Sansa drew the curtains, noting that the sun had already started to go down – much earlier than it would in the North – and then switched on the TV. There was no sofa and so Sansa quite happily settled herself on the bed next to Jon, plumping up the pillows. She suppressed the wish that they could do more than just that. Tonight……before the funeral…….wasn’t the right time. 

But Sansa hoped it soon would be. 

She wrapped an arm around Jon and lay her head on his chest, gazing up at the screen. “If you could do that to someone in your family, who would it be?” Jon asked, when Harry blew up Aunt Marge. Sansa stifled laughter. 

“If forced to, I would say Aunt Lysa – but if you ever repeat that in my mother’s presence then I will flatly deny it and call you out as a liar.” She could feel Jon’s silent chuckles in his chest. “And you? If you could do that to anyone in the world, who would it be?”

Jon was silent for a moment. 

“I don’t know…..why don’t we just for two to none on Aunt Lysa? I don’t think I’d like that bus any more than I like flying, to be honest.”

“Well, that rules out a career in Quidditch”, Sansa told him. 

“You can play in real life, you know. There’s matches organized all over the place. On the ground. I should be alright with that. Maybe we should arrange a game sometime. Download a guide on how to play and get enough people together. Sam and Gilly would be interested.”

“You’re such a nerd.” _But, you’re_ my _nerd_.

“I’ve always wondered why _The Leaky Cauldron_ is such a mess. I mean, they have magic. You’d think it would be clean and tidy and fancy.” That was logic Sansa could not fault and she was, in any case, unable to think of a response from the moment she felt Jon’s fingers run through her hair. Her breath began to hitch and she felt both comforted and uneasy at the same time. She felt cherished, but she also felt Jon’s touch between her legs though no part of him was touching her there. 

Sansa reminded herself again that this was not the right moment, but couldn’t stop herself from swiping her thumb up and down against Jon’s side. 

-

Jon felt the crick in his neck again as he pulled on the black tie he’d brought with him. 

His phone alarm had gone off at eight as normal and Jon had awoken to find himself entwined with Sansa on the bed in her room. The TV was playing some cartoon or other and when he determined the last scene he could honestly recall seeing on screen was set in the Shrieking Shack, Jon realized he and Sansa must have fallen asleep before the end. 

Jon had been uncomfortably hard, having woken with Sansa’s arse pressed up against his cock, but had managed to relieve himself enough in the bathroom before Sansa stirred. His gaze had softened at the sight of her when he’d finished in there. She looked nothing short of adorable sleep-tousled like this – even in her own clothes rather than Jon’s. 

Countless girls had crossed his path at Wintertown High and WHU plastered in make-up but Jon had never thought Sansa needed any. She was more than beautiful without it. 

They’d both showered – separately – and had a hot but small breakfast since then and now Jon was dressing for Rhaegar’s funeral. It seemed both a thousand years and six hours since that moment in the break room at Ned Stark’s firm when the news report had told him what had happened at Summerhall. Since he and Sansa had left Wintertown less than twenty-four hours earlier, Jon had felt like he was having an out of body experience on countless occasions. 

Jon pulled on the black suit jacket and made sure the last of his things were packed in his suitcase. They’d chosen the late check-out option when booking and so had the rooms until three. With the funeral due to commence at eleven, they’d be back in more than enough time to check out on time and head to the airport for their return flight. 

He went over to the window and took in the view again, staring out to sea and the vast emptiness of it all. There was a knock on the door between his room and Sansa’s, and Jon called for her to come in. 

“You look lovely”, he told her. The truth was she looked beyond stunning, but it seemed in poor taste to tell her that she looked good enough to eat when she was dressed for a funeral. She was wearing a black dress that was loose to her waist and then flowed out until it ended around her knees, a suit jacket with three quarter length sleeves (something Jon, who was already finding the Southron summer heat stifling, was jealous of) and black heels that Jon would have liked to see Sansa in – with nothing else on.

Take away the jacket and Sansa’s outfit was just like something out of Jon’s wet dreams. Thank goodness he’d taken care of things in the bathroom before she woke. 

“Thank you”, she smiled. “You’re ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.” In truth Jon was nervous and although he’d tried to tell Sansa that she didn’t need to come down here with him, he didn’t know how he would even have got this far through his trip without her. From her chatter about Bran’s plans to her teasing him about his desire to play Quidditch, Sansa had calmed and soothed him and kept his anxiety at bay. 

Jon had received texts from Robb and his mother since waking, letting him know they were thinking of him, but it made a difference having someone there with him. Sansa had anchored him in reality, in his life, ever since the moment she’d taken him in her arms after finding out what had happened.

They’d spoken to the receptionist – a different one from their check-in – after breakfast and requested a cab to the Dragonmont Sept for ten fifteen. It would get them to the funeral in ample time. Jon had also tried to ignore the look on the receptionist’s face when it clicked in her head _why_ they wanted to go there. 

Jon had realized in that moment he could never have come to Dragonstone and kept his purpose secret for the entirety of his visit. Rhaegar’s family had lived here for too long. For hundreds of years, according to news reports. He might be able to hide who he was, _Rhaegar’s blood_ , thanks to his mother’s Northern look but he could never have hid which funeral he had come for. 

The cab was, accordingly, on time, and the driver was silent on the drive to the sept. It took perhaps twenty minutes to get there and although he had spent his entire life worshipping the Old Gods of ancient times, he could not help but feel his breath taken away a little by the sight of the massive building. 

For the first time since starting on this journey, it occurred to Jon that he had no idea about worship in the Faith of the Seven. Presumably Sansa, whose mother had been named in the light of the Seven, would at the very least be able to follow the service. Yet another reason Jon’s active participation in the service would never have been a good idea.

Jon paid the cab driver and took his card so they could arrange a ride for the return journey. When they stepped out, he went round to the other side of the car and took Sansa’s hand. He made a point of avoiding the coverage of the TV cameras he could see. Let the mourners who wanted their tear dabbing in the newspapers and online walk by them. Jon had no interest in that. He preferred privacy.

At the door, there were two men – one sandy haired and with eyes of a blue that was close to purple, and the other with fading red hair that Jon supposed must once have been a similar shade to Sansa’s – handing out papers. Jon took two from the latter for himself and Sansa and swallowed. 

The Dragonmont Sept was massive, the ceiling arched and a good couple of hundred feet tall. Jon guestimated that it probably sat at least a thousand comfortably – or quite a lot more uncomfortably. It was around half-full when Jon led Sansa into a seat near the back. Although he’d had a strong sense that he needed to be here to get started on closure over the entire Rhaegar mess that had followed him his entire life, Jon also wanted to come and go unnoticed. 

He was the one destined to hide in the shadows and Jon didn’t feel that was an overly bad place to be. The only person who ever really needed to know that he’d made the trip was Jon himself. Jon was the one who would’ve had to look at his reflection every day and know he hadn’t attended the funeral of his biological father. 

The seats were filled quickly after Jon and Sansa sat down. He had her hand in his but felt a squeeze and heard an intake of breath not long after someone had started to play music. Jon turned to look at her and saw pure fear in Sansa’s face. He’d never seen that before. 

“Sansa?” he murmured. “Sansa, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She nodded towards a tall, distinguished older man looking around at the mourners. “That’s – Jon, that’s _Tywin_. He’s _Joffrey’s grandfather_. And that man just behind him? The silly looking one with the over the top moustache? That’s _Margaery’s_ father. You don’t think they’re here, do you?”

Jon could see the pain in Sansa’s face and hear the panic in her voice. He pulled her close to him and thought back to the night before and their conversation about who they’d blow up as Harry had Aunt Marge. While Sansa had – sort of jokingly – suggested her Aunt Lysa, Jon had simply wanted to say _Joffrey, Margaery……anyone who has ever hurt you_. But he’d thought that would in itself cause Sansa pain and parroted Sansa’s answer. 

“I’m sure they’re not here. And even if they were, you’re with me. You’re not alone. You’re never going to be alone again – not as long as you’re living in the North. You have friends and family who love you.” He recalled the text he’d had from Sam over the last couple of days, one that he’d yet to respond to in much depth. “I haven’t replied to him properly, but Sam mentioned the other day he and Gilly were really pleased you accepted their invitation to the engagement party. They want to get to know you better.”

Sansa kissed his cheek lightly. “You’re so, so good to me, Jon.”

“And so should everyone be”, he replied firmly. 

They didn’t speak again until after the service, as Jon watching the other mourners file in. And then, finally, came the septon and _the family_. He recognized Rhaegar’s wife and children from the news reports – his son Aegon had even been at Summerhall for the event – along with the sister who lived abroad, in Essos, and the blue-haired man who held her hand. There was, apparently, a brother who had died in Essos years earlier under suspicious circumstances. It was strange to think of them as _Jon’s own family_ and not as _Rhaegar’s family_.

It was strange to think of them as people he may have socialized with; spent a Christmas or Easter break getting to know. Rhaegar’s children were his half-siblings in truth, his sister was Jon’s aunt and the woman who hung onto her grand-daughter’s arm……Jon recalled his mother’s mother, a hazy mirage who had died when he was a toddler. He missed out on having a grand-parent and yet that need not have been the case. 

Jon loved his mother with every fiber of his being. She had sacrificed so much for him and raised him alone. His first loyalty had always been to her. But, he couldn’t help think that he’d missed out on a little of what Robb and Sansa and the rest of the Starks had growing up – _an extended family_. A clan that were loyal to each other and had their own in-jokes and traditions.

He hoped that wasn’t disloyal to his mother. Jon owed her everything. Though it was wrong to speak ill of the dead, Jon lay the blame at Rhaegar’s feet. Rhaegar could have provided Jon with something money could not buy – and now it was too late. 

Jon stood with everyone else when they entered, followed by a coffin. He felt Sansa’s grip on his hand tighten. 

-

When the service was over, Jon wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He was quite emotional – more so than he could have anticipated, though he’d managed to hold back any tears that threatened to fall. It was a relief in so many ways to get outside and into the sunshine, away from the closeness of the mourners. The Dragonmont Sept was large and hadn’t been overcrowded, but that didn’t stop Jon from feeling claustrophobic and desperately in need of air.

Jon kept a close look out for the men Sansa had indicated to him earlier, but thankfully they had appeared to come alone. He was grateful for that. Jon couldn’t stand the idea of Sansa seeing people who’d hurt her so badly simply because she’d come here to support him. 

“I should call the cab firm”, he murmured. “We can get back to the hotel and pick up our suitcases. Perhaps we can find somewhere at the airport to have lunch before we check in.”

Jon didn’t move to take his phone out, however. Instead, he stood stock still as Sansa wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingers through the loose curls at the nape of his neck, their breathing in tune. She murmured soft words he couldn’t make out but Jon was comforted by them nonetheless. In truth, there seemed to be a numb feeling in his legs and he wasn’t sure he could move towards a cab immediately – even if one did materialize from nowhere. 

The service was over, though. It was done. And now Jon would begin to try making a move towards some sort of normality. He would have to. For his sake and for those around him. There was his internship and his return to White Harbour. And there was Sansa. 

Jon heard a cough behind him. He turned to see the sandy haired man who had handed out the service information sheets earlier. 

“You’re Jon”, the man said. It wasn’t a _question_ , Jon quickly realized. It was a statement of _fact_. This man _knew who he was_. This man _knew he was Rhaegar’s son_. _The son_ nobody _knew about_. 

“I don’t know we’ve ever met before”, Jon replied cautiously, instantly suspicious of who this man was and what he wanted. He held Sansa’s hand and pulled her in closer to him, craving her comfort. Northerners tended to be wary of outsiders more than those living in other parts of Westeros and Jon found that would suit him now. Who would know him here?

“No, we have not – that is true. I have written to you, though. My name is Arthur Dayne. I am – I _was_ Rhaegar’s lawyer, his advisor. I dealt with his personal and business affairs.” Jon recalled a letter offering him money. Rhaegar’s money. It would seem this man had been the author of the letter though Jon could not recall anything more than his refusal of the offer.

“I’m not here for money or to cause any trouble. I just wanted to……pay my respects…..to make sure I didn’t wake up years from now and have to deal with regretting _not_ coming”, Jon told him. “I was just about to call a cab and I’m leaving the island tonight. There won’t be any trouble.”

“You look like your mother, you know.” Jon looked at the man curiously. “I’ve met her once or twice. Not for a long time now. In any case, I did not come over to hurry you away. I know Rhaegar did – I know he offered you only money and you and your mother wanted more than that. I could……there is the internment if you – and your companion – had any intention of – “

“I didn’t come here to force myself in on Rhaegar’s family either. I just want to leave.” 

“But – Rhaegar’s Will shall be read…..”

“Then his family will hear it”, Jon growled quietly. _And Rhaegar made it clear that does not include me_. “He would have nothing for me. He had no interest in me. And if by some miracle he did, it would go to a good cause. To a _Northern_ charity that helps _children without fathers_.”

The red haired man came over and interrupted. “Rhaella and Elia are ready to leave now, Arthur. We have to get them into the cars and start moving.”

Jon took a step back but held out his free hand to the man. “Goodbye, Mr. Dayne.”

-

“Thank you for coming with me”, Jon told her quietly while they sat in the departure lounge at the Dragonstone airport. “It meant so, _so_ much to me.”

_In the good times and in the bad……_

“You’re worth it”, Sansa replied. “It won’t be too long until we’re home – just a few hours. Perhaps not today or even tomorrow, but soon I would like us to tell Robb and the rest of our families. I don’t mean to let you slip through my fingers, Jon Snow, and if you’re as serious about this as I am then I would like to tell them. At least with Robb in Lannisport he can’t harm you and Jeyne will be there to calm him down.”

“Tease.” Jon paused. “I want to tell him. I want to tell as many people as you want. I’ve been sure about this since before the day I accidentally kissed you, but I wanted to make sure you were as certain as I was.”

“I am.”

_“Ladies and Gentlemen were are sorry to announce the cancellation of flight WA1760 to Hornwood Northern due to technical issues. All passengers will be rebooked on flights departing tomorrow. Please visit the Westeros Airways desk in the departure lounge to arrange the return of your luggage and complimentary accommodation for the evening. Westeros Airways would like to apologize to all our passengers for any inconvenience this may cause.”_

“What?” Sansa murmured. She was due back at work in the morning. Her father had already fudged the truth on a number of occasions in the last week – sticking to the story Jon was ill and telling people she had gone away to arrange her transfer to WHU with the administrators at KLU. Sansa didn’t want him to feel he needed to lie again for her and Jon. 

“Come on. We should go to the desk and see what they have to say”, said Jon. 

There was a long queue at the WA desk by the time they’d arrived. Mostly because Sansa and Jon seemed the most diligent in actually getting to the far-flung gate on time, as the desk was back near the security area. 

“We have two seats left on the ten thirty”, the woman at the desk told them by the time she and Jon reached the top of the queue. “We intend to put everyone up at the airport hotel tonight. Will you require one room or two?”

“One”, Sansa replied before Jon could answer. She squeezed his hand. 

Sansa wanted Jon and if he felt the same then she didn’t think there was anything else to hold them back. 

“Okay. Here’s your new booking passes and tokens for one room and two meals each at the _Dragonstone Air_. Head to baggage reclaim for your luggage; it should be through in the next ten to fifteen minutes. Be back at check-in for between nine and nine thirty tomorrow for your return flight. Once again WA apologizes for the inconvenience.”

“Thank you”, said Sansa.

“You didn’t need to do that”, Jon told her. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t expect anything.”

Sansa bit her lip. Sometimes he said things like this and she wondered if he was actually being the most chivalrous man she’d ever met – or if Jon didn’t really want her in the way she wanted him. 

“I know you don’t _expect_. But that doesn’t mean I don’t _want_. I just – I just did it, Jon”, she replied. “We should go and collect our luggage. And then we have some calls to make.”

Sansa called her mother while they waited at baggage reclaim. It took a little longer than advised for their cases to appear. 

“I’m not sure when it gets in – I guess around midday? It’s due to leave here at ten thirty”, she told her mother. “Could – could you go round and see Lyanna again tonight? I don’t want Jon to have to worry about her too much.”

“I will do. And I’ll pick you and Jon up at the airport tomorrow. How was the service?”

“You’d have followed it better than me.” Sansa had understood around half of it, but knew Jon had made out next to nothing, other than following when everyone else stood. “It was alright, though. Busy.”

She did not mention Tywin Lannister or Mace Tyrell – nor did she even consider bringing up the subject of Arthur Dayne. That was up to Jon. 

-

After dinner at the noisy airport hotel, Sansa and Jon took the elevator upstairs to the double room they shared. 

She felt a little nervous but at the same time her toes and fingers tingled at the thought of sharing a bed with Jon. Even if nothing physical happened between them it meant something to her to spend the night with him. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms the night before quite by accident, but when Sansa had woken in the middle of the night she had simply moved herself in closer rather than wake Jon. 

It had just felt right, spooning with him. More than anything ever had before. 

“That was amazing”, Sansa groaned when she thought of what she’d eaten. Rump steak and prawns – they were by the sea after all – with creamy mashed potatoes and veg, followed by white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake with ice cream. It had been so delicious she couldn’t resist scarfing down every morsel. Rickon would’ve had a field day with the menu. 

“Definitely”, Jon agreed. “Part of me is about to collapse into a food coma.”

Sansa leaned into Jon’s shoulder. She didn’t want either of them to _collapse into a food coma_. She didn’t want the evening to end here. 

Their room was on the third floor, just three doors down from the elevator. Sansa supposed it was nice enough, but it seemed anonymous somehow. Not personalized like the room at the smaller hotel they’d stayed at the night before. But perhaps that was her taste for smaller, non-chain establishments showing through. 

Sansa’s purse felt full to bursting when she opened it to retrieve the key card for their room. For the first time she had used the machine in the bathroom just off the hotel dining room to purchase a three-pack of condoms. They weighted down her purse but Sansa knew she’d done the right thing. 

If they were not used tonight then they would be some time in the near future. 

Sansa ducked into the bathroom to _freshen up_. 

She stood staring into the mirror, hands palm down on the tiled ridge, trying to give herself a pep talk. Sansa knew she wanted Jon and that she was ready to go as far as he wanted physically. It was just relaying that fact to him that made her a little nervous. This was something that had never come easily to her. Perhaps it would have, had her sexual history not been what it was. 

Cley had been her high school boyfriend of four months when they went to their grad ball together. Sansa snorted. _Grad_ _ball_. It was horny eighteen year olds drunk on freedom and a couple too many vodka-and-somethings. Dinner followed by a dance with a band. Like a lot of girls in her year at school, Sansa had lost her virginity that night. 

It hadn’t been too bad for her, from what she’d heard some of the other girls whisper in the days after. But, neither she nor Cley had any prior experience and Sansa doubted they really gained much more in the handful of times they had together before going their separate ways – Sansa to KLU and Cley to Torrhen’s Square. 

In King’s Landing, there had only been Joffrey. 

Joffrey valued his own sexual gratification highly but didn’t really think too much about helping Sansa find pleasure. She knew it could be good, though. And by all the gods, she hoped Jon Snow could make it good for her. 

Sansa sprayed some perfume and let her hair down from the bun she’d thought to be respectful for the funeral. She shook her hair out, and ran her fingers through it. Jon seemed to like her hair. 

The pack of condoms could stay in her bag, but Sansa wouldn’t object to letting them see the light of day this evening. 

When Sansa opened the bathroom door, however, it was to the sight of a Jon who had fallen into his promised food coma. He lay on the bed still clothed. He’d removed the suit jacket and tie before going down to dinner, but everything else had stayed on and did now. Apart from his shoes, Sansa noticed. She could see them neatly tucked under the bed. 

Sansa noted that his left sock had the beginnings of a small hole at the heel. There was something so open and vulnerable about it that made her want to take Jon into her arms and never let go. Instead, she removed her own jacket and shoes and lay down on the bed next to Jon. It had been a long day, after all. 

-

The clock on the wall read ten forty five when Sansa woke. She could feel Jon’s chest rise and fall under her cheek and looked up to find him smiling back at her. 

Sansa yawned widely and stretched her shoulders. “How long have you been awake?”

“A quarter of an hour, maybe?” Jon replied. “But you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to move. Your phone pinged a couple of times. You might want to check it. It could’ve been Robb. I had a message from him. He wanted to know how things went.”

“Okay.” Sansa sat up properly, instantly missing Jon’s hold on her. She had a quick look at her phone. A text from Robb asking how things were – he’d heard from Arya that their flight was cancelled – and another from her network provider. “Just Robb and an admin text. If you replied to him already, then I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

Sansa got up off the bed and went to pull the curtains over. They were still wide open and although it was dark outside, she wanted the privacy it would afford them. She took a look outside first, though, at the lights from the airport a couple of minutes away.

When she finally shut the curtains, Sansa turned around to find Jon standing behind her. He had opened the mini-bar fridge and taken out a bottle of water for each of them. Sansa took the one offered to her, thanked Jon, and then took a good, heady gulp. 

“Ahh”, she sighed, leaning against the wall. She put the bottle down on a table and Sansa’s eyes caught Jon’s. She reached towards him and entwined their fingers. Jon moved forwards, using his free hand to cup her cheek. 

She could see want in his eyes, want she was sure was reflected in hers. He swiped a thumb across her cheek and Sansa felt her eyelids flutter. “ _Jon_ ….”

Sansa could hear the want and desire in her voice. _All from simply saying his name_. She could feel the want and desire pooling in her belly, growing by the second as Jon continued to caress her cheek. Sansa opened her eyes and looked Jon dead in the eye. 

“I want you.”

“I don’t expect anything”, Jon told her gruffly. “I mean, I want you too. I’m ready whenever you are. I just – I want you to be sure.”

“I am sure.” Sansa straightened herself up against the wall. “And I am ready.”

She was sure and she was ready, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a little _nervous_ excitement inside of Sansa. She flashed back to earlier in the night and her recollections of doing this with Cley and Joffrey. And now she was here with Jon – where she wanted to be. Cley and Joffrey were _boys_. Jon was a _man_.

They’d crossed a line with that kiss. They’d crossed another when they agreed their night out for dinner and a movie was a date. They were about to cross a third line – the final one. There was so much pressure on this moment and yet the second Jon’s lips found hers, Sansa instinctively felt that there was no pressure at all. 

All she needed to do was be who she was. That was all she’d done with Jon since the moment they’d reconnected at the beginning of the summer. And it was _that_ Sansa, her true self, he had chosen to cross those lines with. 

He kissed her so softly at first that Sansa wondered at his restraint. She wanted all of him at once. Jon seemed to be taking his time, though, more than she was used to. Their tongues danced a classical ballet, backwards and forwards and full of breathy moans, reaching up to a crescendo as the coil in Sansa’s belly tightened further. 

Jon pulled back for a moment and smiled at her, his lips full and swollen. It occurred to Sansa just how much she was gone on this man. 

He was soon diving back in, though, licking and nipping at her neck, behind her ear, down towards the scooped neckline of her black dress. Sansa grabbed his hands, needing relief, and moved them to her breasts. The dress wasn’t overly thick and she could instantly feel his thumbs swiping across her hardened nipples through the fabric.

She’d been _right_. Jon was a _man_. A man who knew how to make her feel _good_.

Sansa sought out Jon’s thigh, needing something to move in tune with the throbbing she felt between her legs. She needed to chase this, to reach her high, and every touch from Jon brought her closer and closer to her goal. 

“There’s better ways to go about that, sweet girl”, Jon murmured gruffly when he seemed to realize _why_ she was effectively humping his leg. He slid her off his thigh and dropped to his knees. Jon looked up at her and Sansa could see how dark his eyes were, how stormy grey. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this. _Fuck_ , Sansa. I can’t wait to taste you.”

Before Sansa could react, Jon had his head up her dress and was kissing his way up the inside of her thighs. This was new and so, _so good_. She’d convinced herself that this only existed in the risqué novels she’d read as a schoolgirl with Jeyne Poole, giggling over passages in books filched from her friend’s mother. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ”, Sansa ground out. She could feel Jon pressing his tongue against her dampening panties. This was _beyond_ pleasure. She resisted the temptation to clamp her thighs around Jon’s head and just let him work her up……and fuck, was that his teeth? Sansa could feel Jon remove her panties with his teeth, biting into them and nipping at her hips. 

While her panties fell to the floor, Sansa felt as if she were being raised up into the air, floating higher and higher as Jon’s tongue made contact with her folds. Part of her knew she should be a bit bashful – she hadn’t been overly regular about shaving _down there_ of late – but he didn’t seem to have any complaints, nosing at her damp hair and latching onto her clit. 

She could hear and feel Jon moaning and sucking and licking and slurping away and it was the hottest experience of her life. Then he added a finger, moving in and out of her, and then a second, filling her up. Sansa opened her lidded eyes and took in the dimly lit hotel room around her. She closed them again and moments later everything went bright and she saw stars shining down on her. 

-

Jon lapped up the juices of Sansa’s climax. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of feasting on her cunt like this. He couldn’t quite place what she tasted of, only that his mind categorized it simply as _Sansa_. His fingers were sticky and Jon licked them clean of Sansa. Gods, but she tasted good! Such sweet nectar and part of him couldn’t believe _he_ was the man she was willing to have taste it. 

His emotions and senses were all heightened and the only thing he knew and needed was Sansa, his anchor.

Sansa was throbbing, still coming down off her high, but he wanted to build her up to another before moving them to the bed. There might be a condom in his wallet, but if there wasn’t then it didn’t matter. He could bring himself off – with Sansa’s help, if she wanted. But he’d be fine with this for tonight. 

Her moans were going straight to his cock, and Jon moved his mouth back towards Sansa’s cunt to distract himself. It had been so long – and this was _Sansa_ – that he’d likely blow his load pretty quickly if given the chance. 

Jon had never understood men who didn’t enjoy this. Being the person who brought out the moans and screams like those he was hearing from Sansa was, to him, a far greater way of showing sexual prowess than sleeping with as many women as possible in a short period of time. He liked figuring out what brought a woman pleasure and then giving her that gift over and over again. 

And Sansa…….

Jon wanted to know her intimately and what was more intimate than this. 

He followed his possessive caveman habit and wrote his name on her cunt with his tongue. He slurped up every sliver of juice he could find and then started to move his fingers in and out of her again to find some more. 

She screamed his name once then twice then thrice and then a fourth time for his luck _. Jon. Jon. Jon. JON._ He fucking loved how his name sounded when Sansa breathed and screamed it. 

As she approached her climax again, Jon pulled back a little. He peppered her thighs with kisses and only used his fingers on her cunt. And then he let his mouth find her clit again, for one final round. She screamed his name again and Jon felt the throb even greater than the last time. She was so sensitive there and whether it happened today, tomorrow, next week or next month, Jon could not wait to be inside Sansa. 

He let her come down further this time, moving his head from under that dress – he hoped she had lots of them, enough to wear each day – when she climaxed and finding her eyes. They were closed at first and Jon hoped she was seeing the same stars he saw every time he brought himself off at the thought of doing this with her. 

As soon as her eyes fluttered open, Jon licked his fingers, taking in the last of her juices. And he made sure Sansa saw him do so. He stood up, a little wobbly on his feet, and pressed his forehead to Sansa’s. Jon could hear her ragged breaths and made sure he kept them both standing up.

His cock was even more painfully hard than it had been but he didn’t want to press the issue. He never would. 

“ _Jon_ …..I just…… _words_ …..fuck, _can’t even think_ …….I want you. _Condoms_. _Purse_.”

He lifted Sansa up, whining when she wrapped her legs around his waist, and took her over to the bed. Jon quickly located the purse Sansa had taken down to dinner and she all but through a three-pack of condoms at him. It only took him half a minute to remove his shirt (buttons could be sewed back on, couldn’t they?) and the rest of his clothes. 

Sansa looked up at him, her eyes lidded again, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. It suddenly hit Jon just how much he was falling for her as each moment, each day passed. He kissed Sansa’s lips softly and saw the side zip on her dress. “Can I?” he asked, tugging at it. Sansa nodded. There was a shyness to her look. One that brought out a protectiveness in him he’d not associated with sex before. 

He pulled down the zip and removed Sansa’s dress, leaving her in only some strange shape things around her breasts. She threw them off to the side and allowed Jon to take in the stunning sight that was Sansa in all her nude glory. Fuck, but she was the most beautiful woman Jon had ever seen in his life. 

Sansa tore the condom packet open and handed it to him. While he got himself ready, Sansa scooted up the bed and lay back, her red hair splayed out on the pillow. She looked like she’d walked out of a classical painting. 

As he joined Sansa and entered her, Jon couldn’t imagine wanting anyone or anything else.

-

Jon’s alarm went off at eight the following morning. He opened his eyes slowly and smiled when he felt Sansa pressed up against him. Jon turned around, ignoring the alarm, and looked at her sleepy face. 

“Morning”, he murmured. Sansa yawned and said the same thing back. 

“Last night was pretty amazing”, he told her. “Not to – I know we came here for a really shitty reason, and gods, Sansa, but I couldn’t have got through the last week without you. Last night – it was the light in my week just like you’ve been.” Sometimes there was nothing like loss to remind you what you had, nothing like death to remind you to live your life. 

Sansa moved in closer and hugged him when he entwined their fingers. Jon felt lighter this morning than he had since the day of Rhaegar’s death. Time and healing and Sansa had wrought that change in him. Hopefully he was starting to emerge from the fog. And how could he not with such a light beckoning him?

“We should get up and get dressed, I guess”, said Jon. 

“Do we have to?”

“Sadly, yes. As much as I am _not_ looking forward to getting on that plane, I am looking forward to getting home. _This_ is not our place. _The North_ is.”

“Mmmm. _Home_.”


	20. Families - Happy or Otherwise

“That’s me home”, Jon called as he juggled his keys with the Pentoshi take-out he’d picked up for the two of them on his way home. He locked the door behind him and went through to the kitchen, where his mother was pulling plates from the cupboard and Ghost was lapping water from his bowl.

It had been a week since his return from Dragonstone for Rhaegar’s funeral and life was slowly returning to some semblance of normality. Jon was back at work and taking Ghost for long walks again, rather than simply allowing him out into the back garden. His training runs with Sansa had also resumed. 

His mother had not yet returned to work, but planned to in the next couple of days. 

“They have the Monkfish broth today?” his mother asked. Jon nodded. It was one of their most popular dishes, but from time to time the restaurant Jon went to didn’t have any Monkfish left. 

“And I got you the veal and buttered parsnips for after”, Jon added. His mother hadn’t eaten as much as she should since Rhaegar’s death and Jon had tried repeatedly to rectify that – this suggestion they get her favourite take-out was a case in point. He sat down opposite her and began to lift open the cartons. “What did you and Ghost get up to today?”

“We went out for a walk, didn’t we boy?” Ghost had finished his water and was now at the table, wagging his tail. Jon smiled; leaving the house had been something that had taken until three days after his return from Dragonstone.

“Where did you go?”

“Oh, not too far. Just to the top of the hill a couple of streets over and then back again. And…….I called Hallie. I knew it was her day off and we had a good chat. Um, she, uh, she happened to mention that after her father died, she went to a few sessions with a grief counsellor. Said it really helped. There’s one at the hospital staff can go visit as well as the families of patients and I thought I might give it a try.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Part of Jon wondered if seeking out one of the student counsellors at WHU on his return might not be a bad idea. Even if it was only for a session or two. And his mother definitely needed to speak to _someone_ about her emotions over the last couple of weeks. Too much had been bottled up for too long. 

Jon took a few mouthfuls of the rack of lamb he’d bought and tore off a piece of the sweetbread he had chosen. 

“Did Hallie have any other news?”

“She says you’ve got a very pretty girlfriend.” Jon almost choked on his mouthful of sweetbread. He coughed loudly and then took a drink of water. It wasn’t the first time his mother had raised the matter of Sansa – she’d even asked if he’d gotten Sansa pregnant when he turned up at the hospital to tell her about Rhaegar – and Jon had always known he wouldn’t be able to keep the wool pulled over her eyes for too long. 

It was just a bit of a coincidence that she’d decided to raise the topic again tonight.

Jon and Sansa _had_ returned from Dragonstone with the intention of telling their families, but things had not quite worked out in that area thus far. They’d agreed Robb should be the first person they told, and that this was something to be discussed on a video call. It was the closest thing they could get to telling him in person without either going to Lannisport or waiting until Jeyne and Robb flew to White Harbour for Sam and Gilly’s engagement party. 

Getting Robb to commit to a day and time for a video call had, _thus far_ , been difficult. He and Jeyne had gone up the coast to Kayce for a few days and it now looked like it would be the forthcoming weekend at the earliest. Hating lying and wanting to shout from the rooftops that he and Sansa were together, Jon had mentioned at lunchtime – less than six hours earlier – that he’d like to tell the rest of their families. 

“Yeah, she is very pretty”, Jon agreed. “How long have you – “

“You’ve been all googly-eyed about that girl since at least the morning I came down to breakfast and found her sat at the table in your clothes.” That was very true. “I might’ve had the hangover from hell, but I have eyes.”

Jon chuckled lightly. “I should say that we weren’t actually together then. We wanted to tell Robb first – I sort of felt I owed it to him – but he’s really difficult to get in touch with just now. His internship takes up a lot of time, and I kind of get the impression that Jeyne’s family are a bit full on.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

-

“Do you want to do a yoga session later?” Arya asked when they finished their meal. 

“Perhaps”, Sansa shrugged. She pushed her plate away but made no move to take it over to the counter to be washed. It was silly to feel as nervous as she did. Her family _loved_ Jon. All of them. Her father had said more than once over the last few weeks how impressed he had been with Jon’s work and professionalism. Her mother had greeted Jon with a hug at the airport after their trip to Dragonstone. Her siblings considered him a _brother_. 

Perhaps it was what she had endured in the South – did she feel that perhaps they might see _her_ as not good enough for _Jon_? Sansa dismissed that as nonsense. Her family loved her. She knew that. She had always known that. It was what had kept her going, once. More likely, the nerves came from the teasing she knew Arya would be dishing out. Sansa still hadn’t forgotten her sister’s mutters.

_If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck and walks like a duck, then it’s a bloody duck._

But then, Arya’s teasing would be preferable to the antagonism she’d expressed towards Joffrey. Sansa heard her phone ping and she looked at it, seeing a message from Jon. 

_So, my mother spoke to Hallie earlier – the nurse you met when we went to the hospital that day? Apparently, Hallie told my mother I have a very pretty girlfriend. I agreed. Let me know how you get on. I’ll call later to say goodnight._

Sansa tried to suppress the smile she knew was forming, but wasn’t entirely successful.

“What are you smiling at? Who is that message from?” Arya asked, leaning over. Sansa moved her phone out of her sister’s reach. Jon’s message seemed to suggest the topic of their relationship had _presented itself_. Perhaps this was her own opening. Everyone was here – plus Gendry. She would only need to have this conversation once. 

Sansa took in a deep breath and let it out. “Jon.”

Arya rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. 

“How is Jon?” her mother asked. Sansa looked around and took in Gendry, Bran and Rickon – none of whom were aware Jon’s father had recently died. 

“Good. He’s been doing better since we got back from our trip.” Sansa took and let out another deep breath. “So, since we’re on the subject, I suppose now would be a good time to say – to mention, actually – that Jon and I are seeing each other. Dating, or whatever you want to call it. So……yes.”

Sansa looked around the room, trying to gauge reaction. Her parents were smiling and looked very much not surprized. She’d spent so much time with Jon of late that Sansa supposed it wasn’t exactly coming out of the blue. 

“Fucking _finally_ ”, Arya muttered. “Pay up, bitches.”

“What?!” Sansa exclaimed as Arya held one hand out in Bran’s direction and the other in Rickon’s. Both of their younger brothers reached into their pockets and then placed money in Arya’s hands, matching grimaces on their faces. “You _bet_ on me? Your own sister?”

“I didn’t”, Gendry put in. “I told them they were stupid betting against Arya, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Jon’s like our big brother”, Rickon told her. 

“He’s not like a brother to me, Rickon. He never has been”, Sansa told him. 

“Sorry, Sans.” Bran at least had the decency to look apologetic. 

“No more betting on family members.” Sansa was relieved to hear her father’s firm voice.

“Unless they encourage it”, her mother put in. “What? We all enjoyed guessing the baby’s weight when Roslin was having Olyvar and Bethany. It was fun……..besides, I was looking forward to buying another bottle of that good wine to celebrate a third victory.”

The news seemed to have gone down well. The protests and muttering that had characterized the news of her relationship with Joffrey had absented themselves and none of them seemed against her and Jon. Sansa smiled again. She was happy and her family – plus Gendry – seemed to be happy for her. 

Arya got up. “We’ll be in the gym in around an hour if you want to have a session, Sansa. In the meantime, I need to decide how to spend my winnings.”

“It’s rude to be that smug and snarky”, Rickon muttered at her. “Anyways, I said I’d play _Westerosi Warfare_ online.” 

“I was in the middle of a video call with Jojen and Meera about the eclipse that’s coming in the autumn and what it could mean based on legends left by the Children of the Forest”, put in Bran. 

It only took a few moments and Sansa was left alone with her parents. 

“Well?” Sansa asked them. She bit her lip, nervously. But, really, what would they say? They adored Jon in a way they’d NEVER taken to Joffrey. 

“You are happy and that is the only thing that matters to me”, her father assured her. He came over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve seen you smile so much over the last few weeks that it made me realize I hadn’t seen that smile in a long time.”

“I agree with your father. If I hadn’t known _when_ you applied for your transfer to WHU, I might be worried that you were doing it for Jon and that you were moving too fast, but your father is right. You’ve been happier since you came home for the summer than at any other time since you moved to King’s Landing. We know that part of that is your course, but part of that is Jon. He makes you happy, and in the end that is all your father and I want for any of you.”

-

“I’m worried about Robb”, Sansa confessed quietly. It was Thursday lunchtime and she and Jon were in the park. They’d just finished their hot dogs and ice creams and were sitting on one of the benches. They had jumped over the hurdle of telling Jon’s mother and almost all of Sansa’s family. It had gone so well and Sansa didn’t want to be negative – but, nor did she want to hide something this important from Jon. 

“You can see it too, can’t you?” she continued. “The lack of text messages, the lengthening gaps between video calls…….he’s been so distant. When I texted him earlier – as we’d agreed – and told him we had something important to discuss with him, he replied saying he was busy and would speak to us on _Sunday_. _Sunday_ , Jon. That’s _three days away_. That’s not Robb. I’m worried.”

Jon nodded and took her hand in his. “Yeah, I know. But, Sansa……..we don’t know what’s going on with him. There might be a perfectly logical explanation. Sometimes, you have to wait until someone is ready to talk.”

Sansa supposed that was true. She turned and looked at Jon properly now. Never mind Robb, there seemed to be something bothering _him_. Jon had been quieter today than he had been of late – than he had been since they’d returned from Dragonstone. Perhaps his grief was worse today than it had been yesterday, and given his last comment Sansa was not inclined to push him into a confidence he was not yet ready to share. 

“But, you do think there’s something not right, don’t you? With Robb?” Sansa pressed. 

“Oh, yeah. There is _definitely_ something. Isn’t there a famous quote about unhappy families being unhappy for different reasons or something?” Sansa nodded. “Jeyne’s family isn’t yours. I don’t know how much she’s told you – “

“A bit”, Sansa interrupted. “She’s told me a bit.”

“Well, she’s told me more than a bit. Jeyne’s been round our place a lot since she and Robb got together and I like her, I do. The closest thing you have to unhappiness in your family is Lysa snarking over how many kids her brother has – and infantilizing her son. I get more of her family shit than you or Robb might do.” Sansa opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again. 

“My guess is that Robb and Jeyne are under a lot of pressure to spend time they don’t have with the Westerlings. Her mother isn’t yours or mine. And Jeyne’s sister is her favourite. Knowing you’re the _lesser child_ …….I get that in a way you _never_ could.”

“Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I completely agree with you that there’s something going on down there. But Robb will tell us about it when he and Jeyne are ready. If nothing else, I don’t think we need worry about him spending excessive amounts of time there in the future. I’d guess this summer has put them off _that_.”

Sansa nodded quietly. She’d gone through so many scenarios in her head, from a possible break-up to an elopement. Sansa knew well enough what it was like to be away from home and miserable and feel as if the weight of the world lay on your shoulders. She knew well enough how much difference it made to cling to family. If Robb wasn’t saying anything to them then it must be because he had Jeyne to talk to. 

Jon squeezed her hand tightly. “Not all families are like yours, so seemingly uncomplicated…….”

Sansa wanted to protest that, as Jon had said himself, there _were_ issues in her family. They might not involve estrangement or intense arguments, but Aunt Lysa _was_ snarky – and about more than just Edmure and Roslin’s reproductive success. Neither Sansa nor her siblings had been immune to Lysa’s caustic criticisms over the years. Edmure’s wife had previously sort-of dated his nephew. Uncle Brandon travelled the world and returned home periodically, for a short stay and with little warning, each time with a different woman. There were rumours of cousins in far-flung corners of each continent, but none had yet appeared in person. 

Sansa wanted to say all of this, to say it wasn’t Jeyne or Jon’s kind of complicated family life, but all families were complicated in their own way. She didn’t though, because Jon was getting that distant look in his eyes again. The one she’d seen time and time again that day – and, if she thought about it – had detected in his voice when he’d called the night before. 

“Jon, is everything alright with you?” Sansa asked tentatively. She hated herself for wishing him pain over his dead, estranged father, but Sansa hoped it was Rhaegar causing it – or something else, anything else – not second or third thoughts about their relationship. They had come so far, that Sansa knew it would hurt terribly if Jon said they had to turn back. 

“Hmmm?” he replied. Jon dropped her hand from his and ran it through his hair. “Yeah. There’s just – sorry, Sans. There’s just something I have to think through. Maybe – actually, no. This is so, so, _so_ not the place to have this conversation. Why don’t you come over tonight? Around seven thirty? My mother’s back at work tonight. She thought going back on night shift would be a good idea, ease herself into being around people again and get herself caught up on the paperwork Hallie couldn’t cover for her.”

-

A nervous Sansa tentatively knocked on Jon’s front door at seven thirty. She could feel butterflies fluttering around in her belly, the apprehension she felt clear to any who knew they were there. Gods, but she hoped Jon wasn’t about to end their relationship. He had given no indication that was the case, Sansa knew that. But she couldn’t deny he’d been withdrawn and quieter, more morose than usual over the last twenty-four hours. 

He had reverted to the brooding, furrowed-brow Jon she’d known as a teenager. 

Sansa could hear Ghost whoofing in the background and smiled. The sweet little pup never ceased to make her happy at least, and in a moment she could see Jon’s face through the glass pane. When he opened it, Ghost jumped up her, eager for pets. Sansa scratched behind his ears and then leaned over to kiss Jon quickly. 

It had been more than a week since their return from Dragonstone and they’d seldom been able to be alone in that time. Either they were at work or at home, with one family member or another around. They’d decided to keep their relationship quiet at work, wanting to avoid Harry’s pettiness and Myranda’s smirks and smutty comments. Erena and Edda they would likely meet up with in White Harbour when the new semester began, and they could tell them then. 

Sansa pushed all thoughts of what she and Jon could get up to aside for the moment – along with the thought that he could be about to end their relationship. There was something that was bothering him, and he wanted to discuss it with her. That had to take priority. Their relationship was more than just physical. For all she had experienced intense pleasure from his ministrations, her feelings for Jon ran far deeper than _that_. 

“Down boy, Sansa will give you belly rubs later”, Jon told Ghost. “Come on through. I was – you’ve eaten dinner?”

“Yes.” The creamy mac and cheese was currently flitting about in her stomach. Sansa followed Jon through into the sitting room, where he turned off the documentary he’d been watching and patted the seat next to him on the sofa. 

“I’m sorry if I worried you too”, Jon told her quietly, his eyes not quite meeting her own. “I just – I didn’t realize earlier that I might have. It isn’t about us – I – you’re still pretty much the main thing that’s keeping me right just now. I have – I got this letter.”

Jon pulled an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to her. It had clearly been folded a number of times, suggesting Jon had repeatedly taken it out, read the contents, and returned it, before repeating the process again and again. 

“Jon?”

“It came yesterday. There – the envelope had no markings on it other than the postage area. I told my mother it was something from the hotel we stayed at in case she saw it was from Dragonstone. I said it was just a customer survey.”

Sansa’s heart filled for him as she took in what Jon had mentioned, the imprint that said _Dragonstone_. She hated that she’d wished for it to be something to do with Rhaegar that was making him this quiet and withdrawn, because she could see now that it was and just how much pain it was giving him. 

She vowed never again to wish for anything that – even inadvertently – might cause Jon pain.

The letter was on headed paper that stated it was from _Arthur Dayne, Attorney-at-Law_. Sansa read through the letter in silence, picking up several key phrases, each one making her feel more and more for Jon. Each one deepening a battle within her, a desire to finish the letter and the voice inside her held telling her to take Jon in her arms and never let go. 

Jon had been right – she didn’t understand how complicated some families could be.

_…..is my duty as Executor to advise you that you have been remembered in the Will of Rhaegar Targaryen…._

_….sum was set aside from his personal fortune to be divided among any children who did not pre-decease him….._

_…..the amount of 30 million gold dragons, of which your share is 10 million……_

_……contact me to discuss this matter……_

“Gods, Jon”, Sansa breathed, unsure what else to say as she reached the end of the letter and stared at Arthur Dayne’s neat and tidy signature. She looked up at him and saw the pain in Jon’s eyes. Sansa wrapped her arms around him and felt the shuddering breaths in his chest through her own. 

Was Jon never to be free of this? 

He kissed her cheek. “I don’t want it. I never wanted it. Not his money. But, I just – I thought at first that at least he’d remembered me, even with that. But then I realized he hadn’t, not really.”

Jon pulled back and held both her hands in his. 

“That line…… _sum was set aside from his personal fortune to be divided among any children who did not pre-decease him_ ……Sansa, he just said it was to be divided among his children. He didn’t name _me_ as one of them. It’s Arthur Dayne that’s done that. He’s interpreted it as dividing it in three because he knows I exist. Even in _this_ , a document his family would know nothing of until after his death, he couldn’t stand to call me his son in name.”

And Sansa understood part of what was tormenting Jon. The fight between wanting Rhaegar to accept him as his son and not wanting any part of the money. _Oh, Jon_. They’d gone one step forward and two steps back on this. That grief of never being able to make things right with Rhaegar himself was something that would haunt Jon for a long time and Sansa felt completely out of her depth in helping him deal with it. 

“I don’t want it. But I don’t know how to refuse or what to say. I don’t want his money – especially not like this.”

“Why not do what you told Arthur Dayne you would?” Sansa suggested, rubbing circles in Jon’s palm. She recalled their brief meeting with the man in the aftermath of Rhaegar’s funeral. “Why not give it to charity? To _Northern Teenage Mothers_? It’s more money than they could ever raise with one of their fun races.”

“I guess I could do that. It’d have to be anonymously, though. I wouldn’t want anyone to know. Thank you, Sansa.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. Sansa felt the warmth of his skin and the hitch in his breathing. “Thank you.”

“I do think you should get a lawyer, even if you are giving the money away. Maybe – Jon, I love that you trusted me with this and that you wanted to talk to me about it, but I think the person you should really be talking to is my father.”

“Ned? Wouldn’t that be a bit awkward? With _us_ , I mean.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “He’s known you for almost twenty years and he knows who your father is. You wouldn’t have to lie or rely on client privilege to keep a stranger silent. And I told you, my family were happy when they heard about us. They don’t have a problem with us being together.”

“Okay”, Jon nodded. “I’ll speak to Ned tomorrow.”

“Good.” Sansa felt all kinds of relief and moved closer to Jon. Now that he’d shared his worries with her and they had a plan for what came next, she wanted to take advantage of the fact that for the first time in over a week they were both in private and alone. 

-

Jon walked nervously to Ned’s office at the appointed time on Friday afternoon. He’d spoken to Nan, Ned’s secretary, as soon as he got to work that morning and asked if there was a spare half hour in Ned’s schedule to discuss a legal issue he had. Sansa had been right – whatever his decision, he needed to discuss this with a qualified and experienced lawyer and in Ned Stark he had someone he could talk to without having to give his entire life history. 

He had been blessed in so many ways that his very first teacher had organized her class’s seats according to the alphabet. _Snow and Stark_. 

“He’s in with a client just now. Why don’t you take a seat”, Nan suggested with a smile. Jon nodded and sat down on the other side of her desk. “Would you like a coffee, Jon?”

“No. No, I’m fine. But thank you for the offer.”

Jon pulled the letter from his pocket again and held onto it. Perhaps he should’ve told Sansa about it as soon as he’d read it for the first time, but she’d done so much for him – even coming all the way to Dragonstone to attend Rhaegar’s funeral so he didn’t need to attend alone – that Jon had loathed the thought of placing a greater burden on her. But, then, she’d started to talk about Robb and how worried she was about him, and Jon had realized if she was worried about how silent her brother was being, she was likely worried about him acting in a similar manner. 

The truth was, Robb was as much a concern for Jon as he was for Sansa. Yes, he had spoken truly when he’d mentioned Jeyne’s complicated family life, but he had above all else wanted to reassure her. Besides, this was _Robb Stark_. If he had been in any real trouble then they would have found out about it by now. If he was in real trouble, Robb would’ve asked for help. Jon was sure of it. 

It only took a few moments before a tall man with grey hair exited Ned’s office. Nan got up and knocked on the door. She was gone for a matter of seconds before returning with a pile of files. “You can go in now, Jon.”

He stood up, thanked Nan again, and then opened Ned’s office door. It wasn’t until he had closed it behind him that Jon realized this was the first time he and Ned had been alone together since the revelation he and Sansa were seeing each other. 

Jon began to panic further when he realized that this was, in fact, the first time he and Ned had spoken since Tuesday night. Although Sansa had assured him both her parents had no objections to their relationship, it was undeniable that this now changed the dynamic he had with her family.

“Thank you for fitting me into your schedule, Ned.” Should he have stuck with Ned? Was _Ned_ now, perhaps, _sir_? Ygritte, like Jon, had been the child of a single mother. He’d met Val’s mother but her father had died towards the end of their relationship – and the first time he’d been in close proximity to the man had been at his funeral. 

“Its fine, Jon. Really. I was concerned more than anything – Nan said you had a legal issue, but Sansa never mentioned anything.” It was strange to think it was now _Sansa_ rather than _Robb_ who had not mentioned anything. Perhaps Ned felt that too. From the redness around his ears, Jon thought maybe he did. Or perhaps Ned thought he was withholding something important from Sansa?

Jon placed the now well-worn envelope on Ned’s desk. “Um, this came for me in the post the other day. I showed it to Sansa, and she suggested that I speak to you.”

He sat back and watched as Ned read the letter through a number of times. Other than the odd frown, Jon found it hard to gauge his reaction. He fidgeted in the chair opposite Ned, wringing his hands and wondering what he’d fallen into. He didn’t want the money and hoped Ned understood that. Jon pushed away another issue surrounding it – one that he had no idea about – how and when to tell his mother. 

“I can see why Sansa suggested you speak to me”, Ned said eventually. There was a heaviness to his voice. “I keep meaning to ask how your mother is managing. Cat said she was very low when she stopped in.”

“Better. She went back to work last night and she’s talking about seeing a grief counsellor.” Jon didn’t add that he was contemplating it himself. Although he worried about adding to her burdens, Jon knew that was a conversation he and Sansa did need to have themselves. 

His mother had got home around quarter of an hour before Jon left for work. She’d seemed tired – in a good way, the tiredness that came from having worked hard – but otherwise alright. The shift had been slow and steady and it had allowed her to ease her way back in as intended. 

“Good. And you? I know it must have been hard on you, going to Dragonstone. I understand your reasons for going, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I’m doing better too. And yes, as difficult as it was, going to Dragonstone helped.” He told Ned about Arthur Dayne. 

“Really?” Ned read the letter again quickly. “Jon – you realize that his approach after the service, the wording in his letter…….it is likely that the rest of Rhaegar’s family is now aware of you? That he had another son?”

“What?” Jon took the letter back and skimmed through it for what seemed like the five hundredth time, looking for what Ned could be alluding to. 

Finally, he saw it.

_….sum was set aside from his personal fortune to be divided among any children who did not pre-decease him….._

_…..the amount of 30 million gold dragons, of which your share is 10 million……_

“The Will. If it said how much he’d set aside, Dayne would need to explain why his son and daughter get ten million each instead of fifteen. Why didn’t I see that before?”

“You didn’t see it before because you were overwhelmed to receive such a letter, I am sure.” Ned’s look was sympathetic and it hit Jon that Ned was not only speaking to him in a legal capacity, but as the closest friend of his son – as someone he had known for almost twenty years. 

“I told Sansa that I don’t want the money”, Jon told him in a low voice. “Even in his Will, Rhaegar couldn’t bring himself to even _call me by my name_. If I took it, then every dragon I spent would be tinged with his guilt and shame – because clearly that’s all I’ve ever been to him. I want to give it to _NORTEM_. They helped my mother when Rhaegar did not. They helped her with free childcare, with educational opportunities……they could do so much good with this money.”

“This money could give you financial independence, Jon. It would alleviate any financial worries you have for the rest of your studies. It would enable you to buy your own home outright as soon as you graduate. I say this as _a_ father rather than _Sansa’s_ father…..it would allow you to set up trust funds and college funds for any children you may have in the future. As a father of five, I can tell you that they come at a cost. Don’t make an emotional decision on the spur of the moment.”

“I don’t want it”, Jon repeated, but he was touched by Ned’s words. He raised a number of good points, but this was as good as blood money to Jon and he wanted no part in it. Hard work had got him this far in life and it would continue to serve him as it had his mother. “I have thought about it, Ned, I promise. I can’t bring myself to take it.”

“In that case, we shall reply to Mr. Dayne’s letter. While you are covered by attorney-client privilege, if you wish then we can simply type and print the letter ourselves and leave Nan out of the matter.”

“Would you mind? I just – I just want this to be over and to try and move on with my life.”

“Okay.”

It took more than the half an hour timeframe Jon had been allocated in Ned’s schedule, but Nan neither phoned through nor knocked on the door. In the end, Ned printed out the letter and handed it over to Jon. He read through the main body of the letter.

_I have been instructed by my client, Jon Snow, to respond to your letter concerning the Will of Rhaegar Targaryen._

_My client understands the bequest he has been left by his late father and has asked that the money be donated, anonymously, to Northern Teenage Mothers, a charity with bases throughout the North. My client has indicated that the sum referred to in your aforementioned letter could either be paid to the Wintertown branch or to the main office in White Harbour, though the latter is my client’s preference._

_In addition to the anonymity of the donor, my client has requested that you make arrangements with this charity to disclose the donation solely in their tax documents. Once the transfer has been completed, my client has requested that you forward proof of the donation to my office above for my personal attention._

_Please advise me as soon as possible of your receipt of this letter and your agreement to carry out my client’s wishes. Any further contact with my client should be made through the offices of Stark & Sons. _

“Thank you. This is precisely what I wanted.”

“Good.” Ned took the letter back and signed it. “It won’t make today’s post, but Dayne should receive it early next week. There aren’t many who would have done that. Well – Gendry might have.”

Like Jon, Gendry was estranged from his father. Like Jon, Gendry seemed to have fallen in with the Stark family and been taken under their wing. 

“I should get back to my work. I’ve taken up enough of your time and Jeor has some files he wants updated by the end of the day.” Jon stood to leave.

“Please, come to me with anything else you need, Jon. I mean it.” Jon nodded. “Sansa’s staying with you tonight, I understand?”

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, she is.” They weren’t working tomorrow and his mother was on night shift. It would give them some time alone together – not that his mother would have objected to Sansa staying over. Ygritte and Val both had. That recollection didn’t stop the flush Jon was sure was rising up his neck now, however. 

“We’ll probably just watch a film on Netflix.”

Jon wondered if Gendry found it this awkward when either Ned or Catelyn brought up the matter of Arya staying over at his.

-

Sansa yawned widely and then blinked as she took in her surroundings. _Jon’s room_. It was Saturday morning and they’d had the most amazing night. When Myranda had seen her gym/overnight bag at work, she had simply replied that she was going for a run straight after work and needed her running gear for that. She wasn’t sure if Myranda had believed her, but it was Sansa’s story and she was sticking to it. 

She and Jon _had_ gone for a run. That part hadn’t been a lie. Sansa had just neglected to mention what was to come after – a delicious meal of grilled fish and vegetables she and Jon cooked together, a Netflix movie they’d picked out and then an early night. Well, sort of. 

Some of her muscles ached, but Sansa didn’t mind. Her mind flashed back to the night before and Jon’s mouth on what seemed like every inch of her body, his fingers tweaking her nipples and then plunging into her wetness, his cock filling her up…….

Sansa lifted his hand from where it had settled on her breast during the night and kissed Jon’s knuckles. He let out another snore and then shifted in his sleep, closer to her. Sansa could feel his cock more pronounced against her arse and decided to wake him up for round _four_ (one and two had been part of their _so-called early night_ and three when they woke up at the same time and found each other in the darkness). 

Grinning, Sansa let Jon’s hand fall onto the pillow and then moved further down the bed. She planned to wake him up in the best way possible…….

-

Jon woke hard with Sansa’s mouth around his cock. He blinked once and then twice and then properly took in what was happening. Her tongue was swirling around the head of his cock while she ran the tips of her fingers up and down his shaft. 

“Fuck”, Jon ground out. He arched his back and his eyes caught the ceiling. “Hells, Sansa, _that mouth of yours……_ ”

He rode his wave of pleasure, locking his eyes on hers as much as he could. Jon hadn’t asked her to do this – he’d never push any woman to do this if she didn’t want to – but that didn’t mean he found _no_ _enjoyment_ in it. That didn’t mean he had _no_ _desire_ for it. _No want_. 

Jon wanted to last as long as he could, but Sansa was making that very difficult. Besides, it was _Sansa_. And he had no idea of how long she’d been doing it before his dream had been interrupted and his eyes opened. 

“Fuck, my sweet Sansa, but _right there_. Your mouth, your tongue. Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good. _Feels so, so good_ ”, Jon growled.

He could feel her chuckles at that vibrating around his cock and it made him want her to laugh more. Jon could feel himself filling up, though, and knew it wouldn’t be long. A few distraction techniques worked, but in the end he knew he couldn’t hold back the wave of pleasure Sansa had wrought. 

“Fuck, Sansa – Sansa, I’m going to – “

But she filled her mouth further and then sucked Jon’s juices from his cock in the same way that he had taken every last sliver from her cunt every time he’d gone down on her. Seeing her swallow, it hit Jon in the heart. He knew from discussions they’d had since Dragonstone that Sansa hadn’t had the best sexual experiences in the world, and while Jon was completely on board with being the person who changed that, it meant something to him that she would still try this. That Sansa was this comfortable with him. 

Orgasm aside, Jon knew as he looked down at her that Sansa was someone he could very easily fall very much in love with. 

He pulled her up and kissed her soundly, tasting himself on her tongue. “Salty”, he murmured, leaving Sansa in giggles. “What? Don’t you taste yourself on me after I’ve had _my_ mouth on _you_?”

“I never really thought of it that way”, Sansa replied, nuzzling in at his neck. “Was I – did you enjoy that?”

“Yeah, I did. It was an unexpected, happy surprise. And……now it gives me an excuse to return the favour.”

Jon flipped them over, Sansa’s giggles filling his ears, and turned his mind back to the dream she’d taken him out of. 

-

“I’ll take him”, Sansa offered. She kissed Jon’s pouty, swollen lips briefly and got up from the bed. Ghost jumped up at her, panting. “Yes, boy, I’ll take you. I’m going to spoil you as much as I can before I go to White Harbour. But in a minute. I don’t think the neighbours would be too impressed if I let you out the door wearing nothing but a smile.”

“I wouldn’t mind if that’s all I saw of you, but I like it just being me and you that see what each other looks like in that way”, Jon told her. “And thank you for taking him out. I’ll start the shower and you can come join me when he’s finished.”

Sansa found herself momentarily struck dumb by the sight of Jon’s bare backside as he looked in the chest of drawers for something. He turned round while Sansa tried to hold in a strangled “ _nurghlargh_.” At least she wasn’t drooling. Jon threw a pair of clean boxers and a _Lord of the Rings_ t-shirt at her. “That should be alright until after our shower.”

“Thank you.”

Jon kissed her soundly. “As I’ve told you before, the sight of you in my clothes……..please don’t take too long.”

Sansa chuckled and got dressed. As soon as she opened the bedroom door, Ghost bounded out and down the stairs ahead of her. The keys were, as Jon had instructed her, on the counter. While Ghost went outside to do his business, Sansa went about hers and refilled his water and food bowls.

Hearing a click behind her, she thought Ghost was finished very quickly. Sansa frowned when she looked up and saw the back door was ajar, just the way she’d left it. 

“Morning, Sansa.” She looked down and cringed at the sight of herself in _Jon’s t-shirt_. In _Jon’s boxers_. All in front of _Jon’s mother_. Sansa turned around nervously and met Lyanna’s eyes. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. 

Sansa had known Lyanna most of her life, but this was different. She wasn’t just _Robb Stark’s sister_ any more. Now, she was _Jon’s girlfriend_. 

She hoped again that she wasn’t blushing. 

“Morning, Lyanna.” Sansa swallowed. “Ghost’s just outside – I thought I’d get his breakfast ready.”

Sansa had originally decided to do this so she and Jon could have some uninterrupted time in the shower together, but it was now clear _that_ wasn’t going to happen. Even if Lyanna was relaxed about her staying over, shower sex with Jon while his mother was in the house was definitely _not_ something Sansa had the confidence for. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look Lyanna in the eye again if they did that.

“Thank you, Sansa, but you didn’t need to do that.”

“I offered. I miss having a dog around.” That was true. When she finished her studies and joined the real, grown-up workforce, Sansa was definitely getting a dog. 

“Where’s Jon?”

“In the shower.” _Quite possibly still waiting for me_.

“I’ll hurry him up before I head to bed – make sure he doesn’t use up all the hot water. I speak from experience when I say that’s no fun. You two have plans for today?”

“We’re going to take Ghost to the park.”

“Good. Enjoy yourselves.” She didn’t look as aged or tired as she had the last time Sansa had seen her, but nor did she resemble the young Lyanna of old. “I’ll see you when I wake up.”

Sansa nodded, loving that Lyanna seemed to assume she’d still be there well into the afternoon. She listened as Lyanna announced her presence, calling up the stairs to Jon to hurry up. She finished filling up Ghost’s water bowl and then went to the back door to watch him play in the garden. Sansa could see this being her Saturday routine for a long time to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote Jon references is actually a line from Tolstoy's Anna Karenina - All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.


	21. Brotherly Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.....we've got a little misogyny in this chap. Also a little of the Northern/Southron style regionalism that we see in series. 
> 
> And more Harry Potter references.

Sansa sat nervously in front of the laptop in Jon’s bedroom, waiting for Robb’s call. She didn’t want to be negative, but Lyanna and her parents, Bran and Rickon, Arya and Gendry……they had all been so excited to hear that she and Jon were together. Well, they were happy for them. The law of averages said that somewhere along the line, they’d encounter someone who _wasn’t_.

She had hoped that would be Aunt Lysa and maybe that would be the case. Her aunt was more likely to advocate a relationship with Harry Hardyng or suggest that Sansa should have worked harder to keep Joffrey than she was to approve of the amazing son of a single mother. Regardless, Sansa was relieved they were finally getting to tell Robb and Jeyne. 

“It’ll be fine”, said Jon. Sansa smiled back at him. 

“I hope so.” They both agreed Robb had been behaving strangely of late. Thankfully it would only be a few weeks until his internship ended and he and Jeyne travelled back to Wintertown for a couple of weeks with the Starks. 

“It’ll be fine”, Jon repeated. 

The laptop lit up then, and Robb’s name appeared – along with a silly picture of him from their undergrad days that Jon had saved along with his contact. That in itself made Sansa smile, and so when Robb and Jeyne’s faces appeared on the screen, the sight of her hopefully hid the nerves that had coursed through her veins since she’d woken up next to Jon that morning. Spending a second night with Jon hadn’t been as planned as the first, but Sansa found that Jon didn’t object to it at all.

“Hey”, said Sansa, breaking the silence. _Long time no see_. “How are you? How was your trip to Kayce?”

“Uh, good”, Robb replied with a nod. “Both……good. We’re good and Kayce was good. So…..good.” Sansa gave Jon’s furrowed brow a side glance but said nothing. “And you? How’s things with the two of you? Still training for your run?”

“Yeah. Not too long now, really. We’re both at a level where the 10k should be comfortable enough. After Sam and Gilly’s party but before we finish up for the end of summer. Sam and Gilly invited Sansa to the party.”

“But you’ve never met Sam and Gilly.” Robb seemed confused. 

“I have – I told you, remember? When I went down to White Harbour for my interview, Jon and I ran into them at _The Wolf’s Den_. They were having lunch there that day too.” Robb usually remembered things like that. He remembered details. 

“Of course you did”, said Jeyne. She nudged her arm against Robb’s. “We _both_ remember, don’t we?”

“Yeah”, Robb agreed. He looked at Jeyne fondly. “Yeah, sorry, Sans. You did tell me. Sorry, I didn’t sleep so well last night – the heat down here is worse than it used to be when we went to visit Grandpa Hoster. I’m just a bit tired. That’s great. We’ll, uhm, we’ll get to see both of you then.”

Sansa took Jon’s hand. They’d agreed he would raise the topic of their relationship with Robb and that the sooner they raised it the better. Everything else would feel like small talk apart from that and they were both desperate to tell Robb. 

“You will”, said Jon. He squeezed her hand in thanks for taking his. “We’re going there together, to Sam and Gilly’s party. Sansa and I – we’re…….we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now and we wanted to tell you that we’re together.”

“See, what did I tell you?” said Jeyne. Sansa blushed as she thought now of what she hadn’t really taken in at the time – the almost knowing look on Jeyne’s face when she told Robb that, unlike Arya, she _most definitely did not_ see Jon as another brother. 

“You did tell me that”, Robb conceded. He wrapped an arm around Jeyne’s shoulder. “We’re both looking forward to seeing the two of you again. This is good – I guess – the two of you.”

“ _Good – you guess_ ”, Sansa repeated slowly. Jon copied Robb’s action and pulled her closer to him. Sansa swung an arm round Jon’s back and clutched on to him. This…..was _so_ unlike Robb. He was so distracted and –

They were interrupted by a ringing sound coming from Robb’s side. 

“That’s yours”, Sansa heard him murmur to Jeyne, pointing at something – presumably her phone. 

Jeyne looked pale as she shook her head. “Wrong number. That’s the third time today. Someone must have switched a couple of digits when they were giving out or taking down a number last night. I’ll just put it on _do not disturb_.”

“Sorry about that”, said Robb. “And yes – it is good that you’re together. That you’re happy. We’re happy you’re happy.”

“How’s your brother enjoying being back from Essos?” Jon asked Jeyne. 

“I think he wishes he was back there. A lot more rain in Lannisport. A lot more sea mists. I think he’ll at least go travelling in Essos for a year or two after he finishes his under-grad. He might even live there one day.”

Sansa found herself listening more than speaking as Jon kept the conversation alive. Robb nodded along to what Jon was saying and threw in a few responses, but Sansa found it hard to match up the man on screen with the Robb she had known her entire life. 

Perhaps it was simply that he trusted Jon more than anyone else – and who better to take care of her in a way that Joffrey did not? But, then, the Robb that Sansa had always known would have been whooping and cheering if it made him so happy, rather than simply calling it _good_. All of a sudden, Sansa hated that word.

“So what do you have planned for the rest of your Sunday?” Jeyne asked. “Another training run?”

“We went for a run first thing, didn’t we?” Jon nodded.

“I’m taking Sansa out to lunch at _The Three Dogs_ ”, he said. “Are you going over to see your folks for lunch?” Sansa caught the wary look Robb and Jeyne exchanged. 

“I have work to do for tomorrow, so we’ll probably just make a pasta bake or something”, Jeyne said slowly. “The place I’ve got my internship at – they like getting their money’s worth. And I’ve got coursework I wanted to get done over the summer to get a start on next semester.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard”, said Sansa. “Both of you.”

“We’re fine, Sans.” Robb rolled his eyes at her. “Please. You don’t need to worry about us.”

_Don’t I?_

-

“We’ll speak to him in White Harbour. Not at the party, but before it or the next day before they fly back to Lannisport”, said Jon. “Make it clear we care.” Sansa smiled at him. He seemed to know what she’d been going to say. They hadn’t mentioned Robb after the video call ended or in the drive over, or when they’d been perusing the menu while Sansa scratched behind Ghost’s ears. 

But now, after they’d ordered their filled baguettes and sweet potato fries and were sitting with their ice cold drinks, and Ghost was gnawing away on his bone, Jon took her hand and reassured her. 

“You are definitely right when you say that you’re worried about Robb – there is something going on – I do agree with you on that – “

“Just not about doing something sooner than when we go to White Harbour.”

“Sometimes when you try to force a confidence out of someone, they retreat and you’re not the person they come to when they’re ready. I’ve done that. Robb asked me lots of stuff about Rhaegar in the past and I’ve shut down the conversation. But…….when it’s felt right to speak to you about things Robb asked me about in the past, I have. I had to be ready. Robb does too, I think. It’ll be easier to have a genuine conversation in person.”

“White Harbour it is, then”, Sansa agreed finally, though she decided to raise the subject with Arya if matters worsened and Jon continued to make valid points in his argument for delaying their intervention. Perhaps calling it an _intervention_ wasn’t conducive to having a productive discussion. 

“Now that we’ve told Robb, I would like to tell Sam and Gilly”, said Jon. He pulled out his phone and showed her a message from Sam, asking if he wanted to stay with them when he came down for their engagement party. 

“They won’t have their family staying?” Sansa wondered aloud. She realized that although she’d met them and they chatted every so often online, Sansa didn’t actually know that much about Sam and Gilly – something she was looking forward to rectifying next semester – even to how big their families were. 

Jon shook his head. “Gilly’s father died when she was about sixteen. Had too much to drink and fell down a well. Gilly told me once that if her mother helped him on his way, she wasn’t about to criticize her for it. Her mother doesn’t keep so good now and I doubt she’ll be able to travel. She’s got a lot of sisters, Gilly. No brothers, but a lot of sisters. Too many to stay with her and Sam.”

Sansa could read between the lines on that; Gilly’s mother had lived the life Sansa would have if she’d stayed with Joffrey. Would she have come to that point? Helping him find his way out of this world? If she had a child – or children – to protect, then perhaps Sansa _would_. 

Jon put his arm around her, and brought Sansa into his chest. “You are not Gilly’s mother”, he murmured. “You got away from Joffrey and he’s never coming near you again.”

“I know”, Sansa whispered. She reached up and wiped the early beginnings of tears from her eyes. “And Sam?”

“He didn’t get on with his father any better than Gilly got on with hers. You are one of the luckiest people I know, having a father like Ned. Really. Sam’s dad wanted him to join the army. General Tarly’s family have been serving in the military for generations and he’s the head of the Westerosi Army. Sam’s mother will come, and so will his sister, Talla. They’ll stay in a fancy spa hotel. His brother is posted overseas just now, so I don’t think Dickon will make it.”

“If you would like to stay with Sam and Gilly, then I would too”, Sansa told him. “I really liked them and, as you know, I’m in the market for new, high quality friends.” 

Jon quickly tapped off a message, saying both he and his girlfriend would be happy to stay with them and asking if they needed any help with the arrangements. “Perhaps we could go down a day early if they need someone to blow up balloons or hang decorations. Where is the party anyway?”

“There’s a function room upstairs at _The Wolf’s Den_. They’ve booked that out for the Saturday night. Depending on whether or not they need any help setting it up, we could either go down there first thing on the Friday, or after work, and then come back Sunday afternoon.”

Jon’s phone pinged. He read the message, chuckled, and then handed his phone to her.

_Gilly says your girlfriend better be Sansa or she’s not talking to you. And yes, we’ll also take any help offered to set up. Gilly’s sisters won’t be there until the Saturday and Talla loves a spa day. Can you imagine what the place would look like if Tormund took charge of decorations?!_

“Friday morning it is, then. It’ll use up the last of the paid leave we can take, but I think Sam and Gilly are worth it.” 

Jon leaned in and kissed her, melding his smile against hers. “I think so too.” She leaned on his shoulder as Jon typed a response to Sam. 

_Gilly can definitely still speak to me. Sansa and I are out for lunch at the moment at the dog friendly pub I told you about with Ghost. We will make sure we’re down early on the Friday – we’re both looking forward to seeing you again._

“There”, said Jon, as he hit _send_. “We should probably go shopping next weekend or the weekend after for an engagement present for them. I’ll warn you that I’m pretty crappy at that sort of thing.”

“Good thing you’ve got me to help you, then”, Sansa replied. 

“Yeah, and I’m sure I’ll find a way to thank you”, he murmured against her neck. Images of Jon between her legs for what felt like hours on end filled Sansa’s mind.

“Two turkey salad baguettes and a bowl of fries”, came a gruff voice. Sansa looked up to see an irritated looking man staring down at her. 

“That’s us!” Sansa smiled pleasantly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. He’s like that with everyone”, Jon told her when the man had returned inside. “People come here because the food is good and they don’t mind dogs. They don’t come here for the barman’s conversation. Do you want ketchup or mayo?”

“Mayo”, said Sansa. She only put ketchup on regular fries and it was sacrilege to put ketchup on a salad baguette instead of mayo. Only heathens like Arya or Rickon would do that.

-

Jon deleted what he’d written so far and began again. Jeor had asked him to provide a summation of arguments to be used in the Forrester case and he was having trouble finding the right words. Jon wanted to get this right. He was no longer in the early days of this internship and he wanted to ensure he left at the end of the summer safe in the knowledge that he had done his best. 

“Jon?” He glanced over at Arra. “Your phone is ringing.”

“Sorry”, he mumbled, going to pick it up. It was probably Jeor looking for the finished article when Jon was nowhere near done. 

“No bother. We all get caught up in what we’re doing.”

Jon smiled and picked up the line. “Jon Snow.”

“Jon, this is Nan. Mr. Stark has asked if you could come along to his office for a few minutes.”

“Oh.” This he had not expected. But, then, it _had_ been almost a week. Arthur Dayne must have responded to their letter. “I’ll be right along.”

“Good. And, Jon – Mr. Stark said to be discrete about it.”

Jon put the phone down, puzzled. He was always discrete about anything Rhaegar related. Perhaps Ned meant for him not to tell Sansa? But then that didn’t exactly make sense either. Ned was well aware that Sansa knew everything about Rhaegar and the Will. She’d even come to the damn funeral with him _and_ advised him to speak to Ned. 

“Are you heading to the break room?” Edda asked when Jon stood up. He shook his head. “I was just about to do a coffee run for us. You want one for later?”

“No, thank you”, Jon replied. He didn’t know how long he’d be in with Ned, and if their last meeting was anything to go by then it wouldn’t be over in a few minutes. He took a route that didn’t involve walking anywhere near Sansa’s desk and made a quite detour to the bathroom. Jon needed to go anyway and part of him wanted to delay a little in hearing Arthur Dayne’s response. 

More than once since his meeting with Ned, Jon had wondered what Rhaegar’s family – his _real family_ – thought of him. The shameful, guilty secret that had been kept hidden away in the North. He couldn’t imagine Rhaegar’s children were happy about having to share their fortune with someone they’d never heard of until Arthur Dayne spilled the beans. 

If his mother hadn’t been so distraught over Rhaegar’s death then he would have discussed it with her, but she was doing so well now that Jon was loathe to set her back. 

Maybe he’d never know. 

Nan smiled at Jon as he approached her desk. “Mr. Stark said for you to go straight in.”

Jon knocked on the door before entering, and found that Ned wasn’t alone. There were two men facing him, one silver haired and the other a faded redhead. The grimace on Ned’s face told Jon that this meeting – whatever this meeting was – was NOT going well. He closed the door behind him, and as he did so the redheaded man turned to face Jon. 

It took a moment, but Jon recognized him. He took in a deep breath. This was the man who had come running up to Arthur Dayne after the funeral. Arthur Dayne hadn’t responded in writing as they’d asked. He’d sent someone in person. 

Maybe Jon should’ve anticipated this. 

“Come and sit down, Jon”, Ned told him, indicating the seat next to him. Jon nodded and walked round to face the two men. 

As he took in the second man – the one with the silvery hair – Jon felt a second sense of recognition course through him as he realized he was, for the first time, facing his half-brother, Aegon Targaryen. Rhaegar’s eldest son and heir. The son of whom Jon had once been jealous. 

His mind drifted back in time a few weeks, though in some ways it felt like a lifetime ago, when he had sat on the park bench with Sansa and spoken to her about wanting to feel acknowledged more than anything as Rhaegar’s son. Of the envy he’d felt that Aegon could do that. 

_“I listened to them talk about how his son and heir will be with him. I would’ve liked that. Not the money. Not to be his heir. But…….to be able to stand next to my own father in public and have people be aware we’re related.”_

_“Oh, Jon.” Even now he could feel Sansa’s comforting touch._

_“Sorry. I totally stand by what my mother and I have done, not taking his money. If that’s all he has to give then I don’t want it. Any of it. But, I would’ve liked a father. I would’ve liked that a lot.” Then Jon had told her something he wasn’t sure he’d ever admitted out loud. “I hate that I want it, too. I hate it because it makes me feel like I’m undervaluing my mother and everything she’s done for me.”_

Jon sat down nervously and waited for one of the men sitting opposite to say something. _Anything_.

“This is Mr. Connington”, Ned told Jon after a moment, gesturing towards the man Jon recognized from Dragonstone. “He has come in person to respond to the letter we sent to Mr. Dayne.”

“And this is Aegon Targaryen, the _rightful heir_ to Rhaegar’s fortune and business”, Connington replied, gesturing needlessly towards the man that in another world, Jon might have addressed as _brother_. Given the anger evident on his face, it was clear that this fraternal term would be unwelcome.

Jon simply nodded. “You have come to discuss the letter we sent to Mr. Dayne?”

“Yes”, said Connington. “Of course, you will understand that it has come as a shock to Aegon, as it has to the rest of the family, to hear that there was a living leftover of Rhaegar’s youthful indiscretion in this far flung outpost of Westeros.”

 _Bloody Southroners_. Far too many of them thought little of the North and when they did, dismissed them all as barbarians. Tormund after a half-bottle of whiskey was the closest Jon had ever come to seeing that in truth. 

“I don’t see why this _bastard_ should get anything”, Aegon put in. “I’m sure my father never meant to leave him anything. He would have referred to him by name if that was the case. If Dayne had written down his Will _properly_ then it would have stated that the money should be split between his _legitimate_ children. Those he actually had time for.”

If this was their attitude then perhaps it was for the best that Jon had never accepted Rhaegar’s offer of money. If Jon was simply a symbol of their resentment then it was for the best that he had rejected Dayne’s suggestion he attend the internment. 

He thought of Robb and Bran and Rickon and how close they were in spite of the differences in their ages and interests. Jon would’ve liked that for himself. He thought again that he and Gendry perhaps had much in common. 

Jon found his voice. “As the letter stated, I do not want the money – “

“No, you want to give it to a bunch of Northern sluts who can’t keep their legs shut – just like your mother”, Aegon seethed.

“Don’t speak of my mother that way”, Jon growled out. However wrong his mother had been in ageing herself up for Rhaegar, he had been a married man and father. They were both in the wrong – though it seemed that only his mother had really had to deal with the consequences of her actions. 

“I think we all need to calm down and rein in our language”, said Ned. “As expressed in the letter I sent as Jon’s lawyer, he wishes to donate the money left to him by Rhaegar’s Will to _Northern Teenage Mothers_. I simply asked for Mr. Dayne to arrange for the transaction and to be clear that this donation was to be anonymous. Why did this necessitate a personal visit? Are you intending to challenge the Will?”

Jon tried to calm his breathing. He would never say anything against Aegon’s mother and he didn’t think Aegon was in a place to judge _his_. Gods, the grief his mother had endured since that moment at the hospital. She had worked hard to raise Jon and build a good career for herself. She had worked hard to buy them the small cottage in which they lived. They might not have had Essosi trips every year or the latest in technology and they drove second hand cars and Jon had worked part-time in the last two or three years he was at Wintertown High……..but his mother had raised him right and Jon would _never_ let a bad word about her pass him by. 

_Slut_? Jon couldn’t even remember his mother ever going on a date. She’d never brought a man home. Her nights out with the girls at the hospital only dated back to his move to White Harbour for under-grad. 

Rhaegar had never been faithful to his mother, but it taken the man’s death for Jon to realize that _she_ had, effectively, been faithful to _him_. 

Jon watched as Connington glanced at Aegon. “No”, the man said at last. “We shall not be challenging the Will. It would raise too many questions and upset Aegon’s mother more than she has been already. Rhaegar’s mother has also been in poor health over the last few years. The family won’t be challenging it.”

“Then what was the point of you coming here?” Jon asked. He was beginning to feel very tired over this. 

“To make it clear that this is all you’ll ever get from us”, Aegon told him, his sneer reminiscent of the time he’d seen Joffrey on one of Robb’s video calls to Sansa. “Leave my family alone. You are _not_ welcome to return to Dragonstone.”

“You cannot ban Jon from visiting an island he is free to come to as much as any other Westerosi”, Ned informed Aegon. “I will, however, be suggesting to my client that interacting with your family is…….ill-advised.”

“Good. We don’t want anything to do with this half-breed Northerner.” Jon almost rolled his eyes at that. Aegon might look like Draco Malfoy, but he _really_ didn’t need to act the part too. “The Seven only knows why we didn’t discard your lot years ago.”

“Rhaegar was a close friend of mine for many years. He confided in me on matters of great importance and selected me to act as a mentor to his son and heir. Not once did he mention _you_. Not once did he mention _your mother_. Only _Dayne_ seems to have known. I wonder what your mother did to distract Rhaegar, but I don’t believe we should speculate. The money will be transferred – anonymously – to the charity’s main centre in White Harbour and a copy of the transfer notice forwarded to your office, Mr. Stark”, said Connington. 

The two of them stood up. Jon followed Ned’s lead in remaining seated, however. 

“Good day, Mr. Connington. Good day, Mr. Targaryen”, said Ned. “I look forward to receiving the transfer notice.”

“You look nothing like _my_ father”, Aegon sneered. “Are you even sure you’re his? Perhaps your mother made a mistake…..mixed him up with one of the other men she opened her legs for?”

“Don’t speak of my mother that way”, Jon growled out again. He stood now. “Did Dayne tell you that your precious father offered her money? _Repeatedly_ offered her money. Did Dayne tell you that he offered it to me? We didn’t take it, because unlike _Southroners_ , we cannot be _bought_. You are right in one thing – I don’t look like him. I was lucky like his daughter in that regard. But don’t ever think that means I am not his son. Do you think he would’ve offered that money without a paternity test? Unlike you and Rhaegar, my mother has never been anything but honest with me. She told me all about the test.”

“ _Bastard_ ”, Aegon sneered. He leaned forward and raised his arm, but Connington grabbed hold of it before his fist could reach Jon. 

“Aegon! We can’t fight here. This was a quiet visit and nothing more. Come. We shall take our leave.”

The two of them walked out of Ned’s office leaving Jon unsure what had just happened. Jon sat back down, finding it hard to control his breathing. Of all the things he’d imagined when Ned called him through……coming face to face with Aegon hadn’t even been on his radar. He had never anticipated even Dayne coming in person. 

“Are you alright?” Ned asked him quietly. Jon shrugged. He couldn’t put into words how he felt – even what was going through his mind. 

Sansa burst into the office a moment later. “That man with the red hair – what happened?” She came round the desk and crouched down next to Jon. As helpful as he’d been and as much respect as Jon had for the man, part of him wished Ned wasn’t here for the moment. It was only Sansa he needed. 

He felt Sansa’s soothing hands take his and the circles she drew on his palms with her thumbs. 

“Aegon was here”, he told her. He raised his head and met Sansa’s eyes. “Rhaegar’s other son. I’m about as popular with them as Harry Potter was with the Dursleys.”

“Aegon is a grieving son who probably grew up idolizing his father, only to find that he wasn’t perfect. His grief is different to yours but no less potent”, Ned told him as he squeezed Jon’s shoulder. “And he seems to have been whipped up into an even bigger rage by that man Connington. Sansa, it is the middle of the afternoon. Why not take Jon over to Mordane’s for a coffee and cake run?”

-

“Is Sansa staying over again this weekend?”

Jon looked up from his phone to see his mother had returned from her shift. She had a pizza in her hand that looked inviting. Jon was really going to have to learn how to cook something so they weren’t living on take-out all the time. Perhaps tomorrow he could try one of the pasta bakes he’d once helped Jeyne with. 

“Probably. Unless – “

“There’s no issue. I was just asking because I need to stop off at the grocery store tomorrow. You and Sansa are adults. If you want her to stay over then she can.”

“Yeah, she’ll probably stay over.” Jon supposed he could stay over there with his mother home to mind Ghost, but he liked Ned and Catelyn and he wanted them to go on liking him. Perhaps in the future it would be possible, but for now he figured they needed to get used to him and Sansa dating. Going from their son’s best friend to their daughter’s boyfriend was a big step. Even if Ned had been great over the last week or so. 

Jon liked Sansa staying over. Yes, the sex was amazing, but he also liked waking up in the morning with a face full of Sansa’s red hair and inhaling the scent of her shampoo. He liked going to sleep with her in his arms and waking with her still there in the morning. 

White Habour would be weird; Sansa would be in her own room. The next year would definitely be an adjustment. Jon wondered if Robb and Jeyne would want to share with him for their final year – Jeyne’s course only lasted for two years and she’d be finished then. Maybe he and Sansa could – no, this was not the time to be thinking about that. With his brain close to overload, Jon pushed that thought away for now. There was time enough to consider that. 

“Aren’t you going to have a slice of pizza?” Jon nodded and took one. If she’d been feeling more herself then his mother would’ve teased him and said he was too busy thinking of Sansa to need actual sustenance. 

He really didn’t want to do this but the meeting with Connington had forced his hand. 

“So, I have to talk to you about something.” He’d kept conversation light while they were eating, talking about going down to White Harbour for the weekend with Sansa and staying with Sam and Gilly, but when the pizza was done and the cardboard box out with the recycling, Jon knew he needed to start somewhere. Aegon’s visit had left him no choice.

“It isn’t related to Sansa and me – before you ask”, Jon told her. “I just – I need to tell you about a letter I got last week. From Dragonstone.”

“Rhaegar left you something. Money?” Her dark grey eyes were dull, as they had been since news had come through of Rhaegar’s death. Jon wanted to see them sparkle again but knew he’d need to wait a while for that. Be patient.

“Yeah”, he replied. “A lot – he left a pot of money to be split between his children. That Dayne man who used to write offering us money, he knew about me and he sent the letter. He said I was due a third of it. I didn’t take it, though. I don’t want it. I didn’t before and I _definitely_ don’t want it now.”

“Jon, please tell me you didn’t turn down a chance of financial security because of me. You are a sweet, kind boy – _man_ – and I love you for it. I love how loyal you are to me. That money could’ve helped you out in the next couple of years or put down a deposit on a house.” His mother came round and crouched down in front of him. 

Jon stood up and pulled her into a hug. He loved this mother who was a bit like a mother and sister rolled into one. She was the reason for all of the good bits in him. 

“I don’t want his money. I don’t want it because he never wanted me. The Will said the money was for _his children_. He never mentioned me in it. Even then he couldn’t bring himself to call me by my name. I couldn’t take money from someone like that. Come on, let’s go outside.”

Ghost was scratching on the back door and the early evening sunshine was still warm enough to sit out in the back. Jon leaned against the wall next to the back door and took in a deep breath. 

“Sansa suggested I speak to Ned about it – as a lawyer, not to speak to him instead of you, I mean. Ned wrote them a letter saying I wanted the money to go to _Northern Teenage Mothers_. They helped us a lot and there were girls there who don’t have a Rhaegar. They don’t have someone offering to take care of them. It can be a thank you for what they did for us.”

Jon thought it prudent not to mention a figure and his mother did not ask. 

“Why are you telling me now?” she asked. “Why not last week?”

“One of Dayne’s associates dropped by the office today to respond in person. He…….he had Rhaegar’s _other son_ with him.”

“The one who looks like he’d be a good casting for adult Draco Malfoy?” Jon snorted. His mother got a chuckle out of him for that at least. 

“Yeah, that one.”

“You lucked out, kiddo. With your glasses on, you look more like Harry, and who would you rather look like – Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy?”

“Harry.”

“My point is made. Jon, sweetheart, what did he say to you?”

Jon knew he couldn’t answer that question truthfully and in full. “He was pretty angry. He expected half the money and not a third. Ned said – he said that Aegon was probably raised to think Rhaegar was perfect and now he’s having to deal with the fact that he’s not, or something to that effect.”

“Ned’s a smart man. He’s probably right.”

“He told me to stay away from the Targaryens.”

“Well, you were hardly going to be organizing a family reunion.”

“I know. It just – “

“It hurt to have them say that they didn’t want you.” Jon nodded. He could feel his emotions bubbling beneath the surface, trying to get out. His mother had managed to boil down so much of what he was feeling into a single sentence. Just as it had hurt for Rhaegar to not call him by his name, it hurt for his _half-brother_ – because that’s ultimately what Aegon was to him – to say he was unwanted. That his family didn’t want to know him. “Come here.”

His mother pulled him into another hug and Jon let the tears fall. He could hear her sobs alongside his own. They’d have to get through this together. The Targaryens clearly didn’t want to be his family, but she _was_. 

Jon could make his own family. The Starks were like siblings to him – well, apart from Sansa who was so, so much more than that. Sam and Gilly were like family too. And Jeyne. And Tormund. Even Grenn and Pyp. They could be his family alongside her. 

-

Sansa was singing along to the radio and packing a few things in her bag for the weekend when there was a knock at the door. It was Thursday evening and she wanted everything ready for going straight to Jon’s after work on Friday. She would need to use the same training excuse as the week before, but the fun race wasn’t too long before the end of summer.

“Come in”, Sansa called in response to the knock. She turned to see Arya standing in the doorway. Sansa smiled. “You can come in properly if you want. Sit down.”

Arya rolled her eyes, but she then closed the door behind her and curled up at the top end of Sansa’s bed. 

“Going somewhere?”

“This is for tomorrow night. And Saturday night.”

“You’re staying at Jon’s for the weekend”, Arya deduced. 

“Yes, I am.” Sansa folded a summer dress and lay it near the bottom of her bag, on top of the big hoodie of Jon’s that she’d assumed ownership of. _He did say he liked to see me wearing his clothes_. Next to it was a box of tampons. She wasn’t due until Tuesday and was crossing her fingers it didn’t come early. “You spend most nights at Gendry’s.”

Arya laughed. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Five years ago, if someone had told us that we’d be sat here, discussing our respective boyfriends and it being a genuine conversation……”

“You’d have shouted at them and I would probably have been quietly furious. Then I would’ve pointed out that you’ve never been interested in having a boyfriend, only in rolling around in the mud.”

“The two things aren’t exclusive, Sans”, Arya grinned. “I’m sure Jon would roll around in the mud with you.”

Sansa smiled softly. She knew Arya was teasing her, but she also knew that Jon would be up for anything she suggested. Maybe one day they _would_ go for a roll in the mud somewhere. Somewhere quiet and private. Jon could hose her down afterwards. Or they could share a shower. Perhaps both. 

“Have you heard from Robb since Sunday?” Arya asked. Sansa frowned at both the mention of Robb and the sight of her sister biting her nails. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d told Arya to stop her habit. 

“Nope. Not a word.” She wondered if Jon had told Robb about Aegon and Connington’s visit. Sansa doubted it. Jon wouldn’t want to bother Robb when he clearly had something difficult to contend with himself. She hated to think what it would be like for him to go through this alone, if they hadn’t become as close as this. 

“He used to call three times a week and do at least one video call – even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes. Jeyne – “

“I don’t think its Jeyne. I don’t think she’s trying to take him away from us or anything. It isn’t – Jeyne isn’t Joffrey, Arya. Jon trusts her and I trust Jon. He says we just need to give Robb time.”

“If she is trying anything, I hope she remembers I’m an experienced fencer who has been to MMA classes”, Arya growled. “We’re not letting anyone else in that can hurt us.”

Sansa did something she rarely did, and went over to hug Arya. “Promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“Never change.”


	22. Karma's a bitch

Sansa was disappointed but not exactly surprised. She’d known what that tell-tale heaviness in her lower belly meant when she and Jon had taken Ghost on his morning walk but had held out hope that she could make it to Sunday night. That had not been the case and so here she was, sat on the edge of the bath sighing heavily and trying to work out if she should maybe just head home a day earlier than intended. 

She heard a knock on the door, followed by Jon’s voice. “Sansa? Are you alright? You’ve been in there a while.”

“Yeah, I’m fine”, she sighed. Sansa washed and dried her hands again and unlocked the door. Jon smiled when he caught sight of her and Sansa found herself falling into his arms. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Jon murmured into her hair, before kissing her forehead. He took her face in his hands and searched her eyes. Gods, his were such a beautiful grey. 

“I am”, she replied. Sansa hated having this conversation. For all it was a fact of life, and would ultimately allow her to _give_ life, it was messy and embarrassing and Sansa never knew how to speak of it to a boy. _Man_. “I just – not a good time of the month is all.”

“Not a – oh, right.” Jon seemed to understand pretty quickly but Sansa supposed he was used to this, having been in long-term relationships before. It was something couples worked around and Sansa had to get better at communicating with Jon about it. He pulled her into a tight hug. “There’s painkillers in the bathroom cabinet if you need them.”

“Thank you”, Sansa whispered. Jon took her hand and led her into his bedroom, where they’d intended to watch Netflix on the laptop. Lyanna was downstairs watching repeats of _Down in Dorne_ and Sansa knew well enough that while Jon loved his mother, even he had his limits. 

“What do you want to watch?”

“Something that doesn’t require much thinking”, Sansa replied. 

Jon chuckled. “ _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ it is, then. We can watch from the beginning until we fall asleep.”

Jon set up the show on his laptop and lay it on the desk, then moved over to the bed next to Sansa. While the show started, he shifted them around so they were cuddled up under the duvet. Sansa snuggled in next to him. 

“You’re alright for me to stay again tonight?” she asked quietly, needing to know his answer. Joffrey had done a number on her and she still had doubts from time to time even though she _knew_ deep inside her gut that Jon was as anti-Joff a man as she would ever meet. 

“Why wouldn’t it be alright? You brought enough clothes for another night and if you hadn’t then you could’ve borrowed mine. Sans, you know I’ve got a thing about seeing you in my clothes.”

“Just…..because with my _thing_ ……we can’t…..I’m sorry, but I don’t like when I’m – “

Jon pulled her in closer and then tilted her chin so she was looking up at him. “Sansa, just because we’ve had sex before, doesn’t mean that we have to every time you’re over. Don’t get me wrong, I want you every moment I think about you, but I’m also not going to push you to do something you’re not comfortable with or don’t want to do. I’m just happy that you’re here. And if this is as close as we get tonight then that’s fine. If you don’t feel well and want to go home then that’s fine too. Just – please don’t think you’re unwanted simply because we’re not having sex tonight.”

“I’ll stay”, she told him with a smile. “I’m sorry, Jon. I know you’re not – there’s still a voice in the back of my head reminding me of the past. It gets fainter every day, but that doesn’t mean it has gone entirely. It makes me doubt even when I am certain.”

Jon kissed her lips softly, gently, and then pulled back. 

“I think you’re pretty amazing. Nobody is perfect at relationships, Sansa. They all take work. I just need you to be honest with me and I will be honest with you.”

“I think you’re pretty amazing too”, Sansa told him. She lay her head on Jon’s chest and snuggled into him again. While she watched Peralta deal with his new boss, Sansa could feel Jon’s thumb brush up and down her arm and the rise and fall of his chest. It had its own rhythm and Sansa fell in with it until it changed and Sansa felt like there was a hitch in his breath or something. 

“Jon? Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m very alright. I just – this is funny.”

“It is”, Sansa agreed, though she couldn’t help but feel that she’d missed a joke. 

-

“How are we going to eat all this pick-and-mix and still do justice to your mother’s Sunday dinner?” Jon chuckled. 

When Sansa had said she wasn’t really up to going for a run, Jon had suggested going to see a movie before he drove her home and stayed to dinner. There was a new movie out, _Duncan and Jenny_ , which had enough of the romance Sansa loved and enough of the historical accuracy Jon enjoyed for the two of them to be equally satisfied with the choice. 

“We don’t need to eat it all now. I just – I felt the need for a sugar rush.” Jon nodded and told her that any time was a good time for a sugar rush. He wondered if that was something – Jon didn’t like to ask, but he knew Ygritte craved stodgy home cooking during her period and Val usually had a day where all she wanted to do was lie down and curl up in a ball with heat pads and pain killers. Perhaps a sugar craving was Sansa’s thing. He supposed he would find out. 

“We should get those fruity slurpy things”, Jon suggested, pointing at the large, crushed ice drinks. They had a tendency to give him brain freeze but he loved them anyway, and since they seemed to be having a treat day they might as well go all-out. 

“Strawberry or blueberry?” Sansa asked. 

“I don’t know. I like the red one. I’m not sure what flavour it is.”

“Strawberry.”

“Ah, two of my fruit and vegetable portions for the day, then”, Sansa giggled. She handed the pick-and-mix bag over to the girl behind the counter and ordered their drinks. Jon looked at her smile and found yet again that it really took his breath away. The last few weeks had been awful for him, but throughout it all Sansa had – as Jon had thought over and over again – been the light that shone through his darkness.

He intended to speak to a counsellor when he went back to WHU and had discussed it with Sansa on their Saturday morning walk with Ghost. She had been so supportive and told him how much she appreciated him confiding in her. There was such a great tendency, she’d told him, for men to resist asking for help and it put her mind at rest to know that Jon wasn’t one of them; that he wouldn’t suffer in silence. 

Still, though, Sansa was definitely the reason he had got through the last few weeks. Gods, but _that smile_ and her scent……

They moved away from the counter and over to the screening room, Jon trying to steal candy from the pick-and-mix bag as they went. 

“Stop! They’re for during the movie”, Sansa protested, moving the bag out of Jon’s reach. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed Sansa’s neck lightly. “No fair……”

Sansa turned around and Jon kissed her soundly, resisting the temptation to steal more candy. And there was that smile again……

Jon’s mind turned back to the night before and Sansa in his arms as they sort-of watched _Brooklyn_ _Nine-Nine_. It had been then, after he’d told her that he was happy just to be with her and that their relationship was about more than just sex to him, Jon’s breath had hitched and he had realized he was totally, utterly, unequivocally, in love with Sansa Stark. 

-

On Monday morning, Sansa had decided to do a run to Mordane’s for breakfast. She was craving a lemon muffin and a caramel latte (in spite of the sugar content) and picked up a chocolate brownie and plain black coffee for Jon. 

He truly had been very sweet with her over the weekend.

Jon had made her more comfortable with talking about things that normally embarrassed her. He had seemed to have a second sense for her need to have human contact, and at times it was almost as if they were glued together. Sansa figured he deserved a brownie for that. 

In spite of her disappointment at the arrival of her period on Saturday night, Sansa felt that overall it had been a special weekend. What she could not deny, however, was that it scared her a little sometimes just how close she and Jon had become in what was, to be honest, really just a matter of weeks. They had come so far that it felt like eons ago Jon hadn’t really been a big part of her life. As someone for whom things had quickly gone drastically wrong romantically in the past, Sansa was more than a little scared history would repeat itself – because did she really……..could she really be this happy?

Sansa pushed those thoughts from her mind and entered the office, heading directly for her desk. She couldn’t wait to get going today. She and Myranda were due to help Will and Kyle out with some depositions and in the past couple of weeks Sansa had found herself a little abashed when she thought of her initial opinion of Myranda. 

Myranda gave off the impression of someone who was a bit shallow and interested in clothes, fine dining and going out to nightclubs – all the things fifteen year old Sansa had dreamed of for her future – but in reality she was also witty, warm and surprisingly astute. A part of Sansa would miss Myranda when she returned to the Vale at the end of the summer. 

Sansa dropped off her bag and cardigan and went over to Jon’s desk with his coffee and cake. 

“Thank you”, he grinned up at her. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

“You want to go back to Mordane’s for lunch later, or somewhere else?”

“Gage’s”, Sansa decided. They hadn’t been there in a week or so. Not many weeks into the future they would be selecting different establishments for lunch – or, most likely, eating it in the student cafeteria. Sansa was spending a little time each evening making her way through some of the reading materials for next semester. She had yet to start on those relating to her course on the Old Tongue, but couldn’t wait. Sansa felt it tied her to the North. To _home_.

“Gage’s it is.” There was something in his eyes – something good – that had been there for a couple of days now. Sansa thought it was great he was now emerging from the fog that’d surrounded him since Rhaegar’s death. As brutal as that conversation must have been for Jon (and neither he nor her father had skimped on details) Sansa wondered if meeting Aegon Targaryen had been a way for Jon to find the closure that had driven him to go to Dragonstone. 

-

Jon was in the break room when it happened. 

He had gone in there for mid-morning coffee and smiled at the sight of Sansa in there for the same purpose. Yes, Myranda and Kyra and a number of other people were there at the same time – interns, including Harry, and regular staff and even one of the partners, Ella – but Jon only had eyes for Sansa. 

It had really only been a day since their trip to the movies and Jon’s realization that he was most definitely in love with her. Gods, but the sight of her smile made him happy. When he had started this internship, he’d thought they might end up friendlier than they had been in the past, but Jon could never have imagined – in all of his wildest dreams – that he’d end up falling in love with Sansa as he was now. 

Sansa was smart and witty and sweet and kind. She was the light in his darkness and the anchor that had kept him tethered to earth and sanity of late. Sansa was the first person he thought of in the morning and the last he considered as he fell into sleep. 

Gods, but Theon and Robb would never let Jon hear the end of it if they could see inside his head right now. 

She was so sweet and kind……..and here she was now, with an arm around a crying Kyra. 

“….doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, Kyra. He doesn’t deserve you if he acts like this. I promise”, Sansa told her. Myranda handed Kyra a pack of tissues. 

“No man is worth those tears of yours”, Myranda told her bluntly. 

“I just feel so stupid. _Of course_ Ramsay was seeing someone else behind my back. _Of course_ he thought I was dispensable. I just – I don’t see what is right in front of me. I don’t just _feel_ stupid. I _am_ stupid. ”

“You’re smarter than you think you are, I promise you, Kyra”, Sansa assured her. Jon watched as she rubbed Kyra’s back and nodded her head towards the cupboard where the cakes were stored. Jon took the hint and opened it to try and find something for Kyra. 

“No, I’m _not_ ”, Kyra insisted. “Hells, I didn’t even know you and Jon were together until yesterday. Everyone probably knew the second you started here, but _no_ – stupid Kyra didn’t have a clue until she saw you all over each other at the _Duncan and Jenny_ movie yesterday. Gods, I’m so fucking stupid.” 

Jon placed a pack of cakes down on the counter with a thud and took in a deep gulp of breath. He hadn’t wanted it to get out here at work that he and Sansa were together. Not because he was embarrassed – fuck, no. Jon was the proudest man alive that Sansa was his girlfriend. It was just that he didn’t want their colleagues to make assumptions about them. He didn’t want people thinking Sansa had got anything through the twin advantages of him and Ned. Jon wanted people to see that Sansa got everything she earned; that she was smart. 

And then there was Harry. He’d mostly held off for a while, but Jon hadn’t wanted him to have an excuse to attack Sansa. Jon’s eyes were closed and he was facing the other way, but it was clear the door slam had come from _Harry_.

“The _Duncan and Jenny_ movie?” he heard Sansa ask slowly. Jon chanced a look at Myranda and saw her looking at Sansa and Kyra with a grin that said Christmas had come early. 

“Yeah, I was there yesterday with my sister. She loves that kind of thing. The way he looked at you and kissed you, I wondered how I’d never seen it before.”

_Because we don’t do that sort of stuff around work people._

“So, you’ve been holding out on me, Sansa”, Myranda laughed. “ _Just friends_. Pah! And I suppose the overnight bags you’ve been toting around the last couple of weekends have just had _running_ _gear_ in them.”

-

With Kyra calmed down and Myranda placated with _yes, we are together_ and _no, we weren’t when we started here_ , Jon went back to his desk and left the three women behind. He could see the odd pair of eyes on him from those who had been in the break room when Kyra unwittingly let the cat out of the bag about his relationship with Sansa. 

He knew they would think of Sansa differently now – would it also change how they saw him? Would they think that his place here had been won not only by his friendship with Robb but equally by sleeping with Sansa?

Jon didn’t want that for her. He knew from his mother’s past experiences that misogyny was hardly dead and it was usually women who suffered more than men. 

He sat down at his desk and tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him. It related to the remnants of the Boggs case and the settlement agreed in court. The words bled together a little and Jon found the caffeine he was consuming did not aid his concentration as it had in the past. He tried to plough through and ignore the huffing that was coming from Harry’s direction. 

If he were Theon or Tormund, he would stand up and call Harry out. He would ask him definitively what his problem was and remind him how much of a jackass he had been ever since the very first day of their internship. Jon was not Theon or Tormund, however, and so he tried his best to ignore Harry’s petulance.

It was unclear to Jon just why Harry had taken so much against him and Sansa. Was it simply Sansa’s rejection of him? Was playboy Harry unused to a woman saying _no_ to him and unable to deal with it?

Jon wondered if he would ever get an answer on that. 

Rodrik and Jory provided a welcome distraction for him, asking for his attendance at a meeting with the rest of the legal and admin interns. Jon grabbed his coffee and followed Erena and Edda into one of the meeting rooms. He chanced a glance at Sansa and saw her smile softly when their gazes met. 

“I won’t keep all of you long”, said Rodrik, once they were all seated. It reminded Jon a little of classes at WHU, with everyone looking up at Rodrik and Jory, the two men stood up at the front commanding attention. 

“You may have noticed that both Marsh and Yarwyck are absent today – they were both involved in a car crash on Saturday on their way to a football match and have been hospitalized. Their injuries are not life-threatening but they will be unable to return to work for a few weeks. As such, those of you working with them will be reassigned to another partner. Nan is arranging for a fruit basket for them, but I would urge you all to sign the cards due to be passed around this afternoon.”

Jon heard murmurs but made out little. He’d had little to do with Marsh and Yarwyck thus far but they had seemed nice enough. Although Rodrik Cassel had overall responsibility for the legal interns, they’d all been assigned a partner as a mentor and normally sourced most of their work from that partner. Will had been working with Marsh and Harry with Yarwyck. 

“Will, you’ll now be working with Ella Whitehill, and Harry shall now be with Donal Noye.” Jon heard Harry snort at that and wondered why; Noye was a recent appointment but seemed intelligent and surely his experience in Southron legal matters made him a suitable match with Harry? 

“The one-armed bandit”, Harry muttered behind him. Jon rolled his eyes. Intelligence and hard work mattered. A disability did _not_. 

“Alright, time to get back to it. Oh, Jon – could you stay back for a moment?” Rodrik asked when they all stood and began to file out. “There is a new case I want to discuss with you.”

“Of course you do.” Jon turned to see Harry glaring at Rodrik. The sound of footsteps disappeared and Jon realized everyone’s attention was on the scene before them and very much _not_ on returning to their desks. 

“Do tell, Snow. How do you seem to get all the interesting cases around here? To be just about the only one who gets to go to court even though you’ve less experience, only having studied this subject for a matter of months.” Jon wanted to point out that both Edda and Erena had been to court in the past couple of weeks but thought that would only serve to stoke Harry’s ire further. “I thought it was just being the best friend of the boss’s son, but it was always more than that. Do tell, _Snow_ , is it because you got the boss’s daughter to open her legs to you? Is that how things work in the _North_ , just like they do in the _South_?”

It was taking all of Jon’s restraint not to punch Harry right now. He focused on Sansa and the impact this was having on her and not on how much it was making him despise Harry Hardyng. 

“Enough, Hardyng! Jon Snow is here because he is intelligent and hard-working and impressed the panel assessing the internship applications”, Rodrik snarled. “Everything he has achieved here has been _earned_. Intelligence and hard work. _That_ is how things operate in the _North_. No _Northerner_ is here simply as a favour granted to a jaded uncle – an unpaid flunky to be tossed scraps so a future reference isn’t a complete lie!”

Jon knew he liked Rodrik Cassel. 

Harry’s face was flushed red as he stammered out an insistence that coming here had been his uncle’s choice and most certainly not _his_. He had never asked Uncle Jon – a name he spat out now – to arrange this trip to a frozen outpost of Westeros where everything was so staid and boring. 

“As I said, Hardyng. My office. _Now_.”

“Everyone else, back to their desks”, Jory added. 

Jon waited outside for Sansa, who had been sat behind him. He wanted to make sure she was alright. Harry had made pretty vile comments about her and Jon knew that after what she’d experienced in King’s Landing that Sansa would likely take it to heart more than one of the other women might – Myranda, for example. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asked Sansa. Myranda was right next to her, so Jon knew it was likely he’d need to have this conversation again at lunchtime. Jon knew Myranda was only aware of Sansa applying to move home – not the true reasons behind it. 

“As fine as can be expected. No, honestly, Jon. I am fine. I cringed at what he said – “

“You know nobody else believes it, right?” Myranda told her bluntly. “We all know its bullshit. Hardyng is a lazy-as-fuck jackass and Snow here is dead-on smart. Don’t get me wrong, I know you’ve been holding out on me Sansa and we WILL have words about that.”

A loud thud and shouts could be heard from Rodrik Cassel’s office.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall in _that_ meeting”, Myranda grinned. She walked off with a smirk on her face. 

“I think that blow-up has been coming for a while and I think it is a lot more about him hating me than him hating you”, Jon told her. He wasn’t sure how much Sansa’s rejection had affected Harry’s actions but he didn’t want Sansa blaming herself. 

“What is going on in there?” Jon turned at the sound of Ned Stark’s voice. He was passing them with Jory Cassel at his side and they were heading in the direction of Rodrik’s office. 

“We should go back to our desks”, said Jon. “Come on. We can talk about this more at lunch.”

“Okay”, Sansa agreed. “I just – I don’t like being the focus of everyone’s gossip like this.”

“I know.” It must bring back so many memories of the past and King’s Landing for her. 

Jon left Sansa at her desk in the knowledge that Myranda and Ronnel and Robin were all people who liked her for herself and wouldn’t repeat Harry’s hurtful comments. He caught a few people staring at him as he made his way to the section of the office where the legal interns were situated. Jon ignored the looks, relieved once again after the events of the last few weeks that most of the people he interacted with here had no idea of his heritage. 

Jon could only imagine this gossip on top of what had happened with Rhaegar’s death and Aegon’s agitated visit. 

He picked up the Boggs file again and recalled that Rodrik had wanted to speak to him about a new case. Jon supposed Rodrik would seek him out once the meeting with Harry was over. It was clear that was a meeting not destined to end well and Jon wondered how Harry could legitimately continue at the firm after what he’d publicly said about Sansa. 

“Jon, I hope you know that I don’t believe what Harry said.” Arra was standing next to his desk with a file in her hand, as if she didn’t want to bring attention to what she was saying being more than work. “I hope Sansa does too. Yes, I was a little sceptical when I found out how close you were to the Starks, but nothing I’ve seen since has shown me that you are as entitled as I am to be working here. I’m a year ahead of you, but if you told me that you only had a year left at WHU Law then I would believe you.”

“Thank you.”

“Also, Harry’s a jackass with – I have come to discover – little knowledge of legal process.”

“I don’t – “

He was interrupted by the sight of Harry storming through the office, stopping only to pick up a few things from his desk. Jon looked away, not wanting to meet Harry’s eyes and provoke him further, and he kept his gaze on either Arra or his desk until Harry left. 

Jon looked at his back as he left the office – most likely for good. 

“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? I should get back to work. I’ll see you later, Jon.”

This was a day unravelling quickly. To think, his thoughts of only an hour ago had been full of the bubble he and Sansa had and Jon’s realization that he was in love with her. Jon had been contemplating when to tell Sansa, but this had put him off mentioning it for now. He didn’t want Sansa to think Harry’s words had influenced him. 

When Jon told Sansa, he wanted her to have absolutely zero doubts of his feelings or motives. And that was fine. He could wait. Neither he nor Sansa were going anywhere. 

“Snow, my apologies for the delay.” Rodrik was back and instantly the murmurs stopped, though Jon could still sense furtive gazes. “Mormont is in court today, but he asked me to pass this file on to you for preliminary notes. Wrongful dismissal suit – Satin Flowers – young man wants to sue his former employer on the grounds he was dismissed as a result of his sexuality. Flowers is due in for a meeting with Mormont on Thursday afternoon. Mormont will have an initial discussion with you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I’ll get started on it as soon as I’ve finished this report”, Jon told him. 

-

“I think it is time for us to end this call now, Lysa. I have dinner to make.” Sansa heard her mother’s voice as she made her way through to the kitchen, her father at her back. He’d been very sweet to her in the car on the way home, insisting – as Jon had at lunchtime – that she’d done nothing wrong. 

Sometimes Sansa wondered just how much her parents surmised about what had happened in King’s Landing, especially with her transfer to WHU. 

“Will you speak to Ned and the girl, then? Gods, but if that daughter of yours wasn’t such a prude with Harry. Leading him on like that…..though it seems that all along she had been getting everything Harry should’ve had re-directed to some other young man she was dangling on a string!”

“Lysa! That is enough! I will speak to Ned about your nephew’s dismissal, but you will NEVER speak of my daughter like that again.” Sansa stepped into the room and caught her mother’s eye. “Sansa is in a committed relationship with someone Ned and I have known for a very long time. We are supportive of that relationship and I do not accept that Sansa led Harry on in any way. She is a good, sweet young woman who is friendly to everyone she meets. That is all. And now I will end this call. Goodbye, Lysa.”

Her mother closed the laptop, ending her video call, and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“I understand the two of you had quite a day at work.”

“Just a little bit. I spoke to Jon – I take it he must have discussed it with Lysa as Harry will be returning to the Vale earlier than planned.”

“Oh, yes.” Her mother stowed the laptop on the desk in the corner of the room and went over to hug Sansa. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Sansa. Lysa should never have said those things and I would never believe them.”

Sansa managed to will away the tears threatening to fall. Aunt Lysa had always been a bit of a kook and more old-fashioned than the rest of her mother’s family – and Sansa had been a victim of her caustic words as much as any of her siblings in the past – but to hear that she was effectively siding with Harry _over her own blood_ hurt. 

She wanted to apologize to her mother for being the cause of a fall-out with Lysa, but then she heard Jon and Arya’s voices in her head.

“Harry did once – there was a night out to celebrate Arra’s birthday, remember? – Harry, he cornered me in a bar and said he wanted to see more of me."

_“Stark”, he’d breathed. “You know, I really do think you’ve got the legs to pull that dress off. We should go out some evening. Just you and me. Without the others – especially your pouty-lipped pal, Snow. Call off the bodyguard and we could have a real good time.”_

_“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harry”, Sansa had informed him in clipped tones. “And Jon is not my bodyguard. He’s my friend.”_

_Harry had tucked her long, loose hair behind her ear. “You sure? I think it’d be an excellent idea. I’d like to see a little more of those legs of yours. They look like they go on for days. I imagine they can do all sorts of things.”_

_“No.”_

_“We could have a lot of fun together.”_

_Sansa had pushed down his arm. “I said no, Harry, and I meant it. I’d say you were lucky my brother Robb is in Lannisport this summer but the one you really have to watch out for is my sister. She’s aiming to be a professional fencer. Got lots of swords, has Arya. She trains with a couple of MMA fighters sometimes and they taught me moves last summer in case I ever got mugged in King’s Landing. Continue with your line of thought and you’ll find out just what they taught me. Say nothing further, and I won’t bring this up with Jory or Rodrik on Monday morning.”_

“I had to tell him _no_ twice and threaten him with Jory or Rodrik to get him to back off. He called Jon my bodyguard and asked me to call him off. Ever since, he’s been rude to Jon and to me. I don’t think he was used to being rejected.”

“I don’t think so either”, her father agreed. There was a grim countenance on her father’s face and Sansa felt guilty again that she was the cause of it. It reinforced her decision not to tell her parents the extent of what had happened between herself and Joffrey. Her father and Uncle Jon had been close even before they’d wed sisters and her father’s friendship with Robert had been a huge factor in why she hadn’t spoken up about Joff. 

“Sansa, I want you to tell me if anyone else at work says something. I mean it. We have a zero tolerance policy that includes incidents occurring outside of the office.”

“Was Harry really there as a favour to Uncle Jon?”

“He was”, her father admitted. “Jon wanted Harry to learn about legal customs and traditions in the North…..and I believe there was a receptionist at your uncle’s firm not long back from maternity leave. Jon is helping provide for the child, but Harry hasn’t taken much of an interest.”

“Wow.” Sansa had no idea any of this had been going on in the background.

“Perhaps I should have been more honest with you when Harry came to Wintertown to intern for the firm. I did hold off on inviting him here, in spite of his being your uncle’s nephew, in part because I didn’t want to show preference for him……and in part because of what Jon had told me.” The _not showing preference thing_ seemed to have backfired spectacularly. 

They were interrupted by the arrival home of Arya. “Is dinner ready yet? I’m starving.”

-

“To us!” Sansa declared as she clinked her glass against Arya’s. 

“To us!” Arya agreed with a grin. 

Jon had dropped them off at _Woodswatch_ with a smile on his face and a promise to pick them up and take them home whenever they were ready. They’d decided on colourful, fruity cocktails with umbrellas in them and found a table in a quiet alcove where the music was more of a quiet background hum. 

After Arya had heard all of what had happened at the office on Monday, she had insisted on a night out with Sansa on Friday. She had initially suggested cocktails that night, but Sansa was too mentally exhausted and in any case didn’t really want to go out drinking when she had work the following morning. Even if she’d had the holidays to take the next day off, Sansa wouldn’t have wanted to – it would only lead to further gossip when she did return. 

“I’m so pleased this week is over and done with”, Sansa sighed. She took a sip of her cocktail and picked up a hint of the rum. In truth, everyone had been really nice to her at work. Some had come over to make sure she knew they didn’t believe a word of what Harry had implied. 

At the same time, however, this week had reminded Sansa why she and Jon had not wanted their relationship to be public knowledge at work. 

Jon…….once the gossip surrounding Harry had begun to subside, Sansa’s thoughts had turned back to Jon and the fluttering feelings she’d had of how quickly he’d come to mean so much to her. And they would be _living together_ come the new semester. Once, Sansa had thought only of how that would mean someone to keep her company while Robb and Jeyne were all couple-y. 

It scared her a little that she felt so much for Jon. It meant she had that much more to lose. 

“I never met this Harry guy, but he sounds like a complete jackass.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was”, Sansa agreed. She remembered little over a week ago and packing in preparation for a weekend at Jon’s. She remembered laughing at herself and Arya finally discussing relationships. “Do you ever get freaked out about things with Gendry?”

Arya gave her a strange look. “Why would I get freaked out? He’s _Gendry_. Is this about Jon?”

“I just – he’s _Jon_ and he’s so…. _Jon_ and how I feel about him scares me a little”, Sansa admitted in a small voice. Joffrey had taught her that caring about someone gave them the power to hurt you. And Sansa felt so much more for Jon than she had for Joffrey. 

“Why?”

“The more I – “ Sansa knew she had to admit this to Arya. “Arya, the more I fall in love with him the more I worry about how quick this thing between us has been.”

“Well, you’ve spent more than half your waking hours with Jon for what, two months now? Clearly things would move quicker than they would normally. But, I get what you’re saying a little. If I could kill anyone and get away with it, I would kill Joffrey. You wouldn’t be thinking like this if it wasn’t for him. It’s like you’re waiting for something to go wrong.”

Arya would be an excellent Psychology student. It’d not come as a surprise for Sansa if her sister decided to focus on that rather than Sociology at Wintertown U.

“I suppose I am”, Sansa admitted. She took another drink of her cocktail. “You’re right. About Joffrey. And thank you for wanting to take him on for me. I just – everything has happened so fast.”

“Yes, but does it feel right? In a way it didn’t……before?”

“It does.” Jon made her feel like she was his world, while Joffrey made her think she was intruding on his. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Listen to me – I’m always right.” Sansa chuckled at that.

“Arya, I’m falling in love with him.”

“Yeah, I figured. Plus, you just told me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So........I DID promise in the comments that Harry would get his comeuppance! :)


	23. Visitors

Sansa caught sight of them when she returned from a coffee run to Mordane’s. She and Ronnel were going through some old files for Jory and she’d decided their morning required sustenance. Caramel lattes and lemon cakes it was – plus Jon’s usual. Now that everyone knew about them, Sansa didn’t really need to be circumspect about favouring Jon on a coffee run.

The summer had passed them by quickly and it was only a few days until she and Jon went to White Harbour for the weekend. Sam and – more so – Gilly had been messaging her over the last few days about decorations. In the meantime, however, there was work – and, on Wednesday, Rickon’s birthday. 

A weekend with Jon…..Sansa had calmed down over her fears about her relationship over the last couple of weeks. Arya had been right in saying the way they’d been thrown together by circumstances they’d had no hand in had left them spending so much time in each other’s company. 

Sansa was looking forward to White Harbour. She wondered if this weekend might be the time to tell Jon she was falling in love with him. 

Her mind was consumed by these thoughts when she entered the office building and her eyes adjusting from the bright sunshine outside to the dimmer lighting inside, so she almost missed them entirely. They sat quietly in the reception area, a dark haired young woman a few years older than Sansa and an older woman with hair white as snow, who seemed to be in her sixties and wore as much black as Jon was wont to do. 

Sansa blinked, knowing they seemed familiar. 

“It won’t be long”, Sansa heard the young woman say. She grasped the other woman’s hand and Sansa recognized the Southron accent. This was someone she recognized from the _South_. But she couldn’t place them in King’s Landing. 

Sansa went behind Kyra’s desk, asking if a particular client had been in touch with Jory yet. After Kyra responded in the affirmative, Sansa lowered her voice and asked who the women were and which lawyer they were here to see. 

“They’re here to see your father”, Kyra replied. She brought up the online appointment book all the partners used and Sansa saw the eleven to twelve slot blocked off for her father with a name: _Ray_ _Nymeros_. Her brow furrowed. That was not a name Sansa recognized and _Ray_ was a man’s name as far as Sansa knew. “I think there was a spelling issue – must’ve assumed she was booking for her boss or something.”

Sansa looked again at the two women and recognition finally struck. 

“Thank you, Kyra”, she murmured. 

Sansa glanced over to the other side of the office, where Jon sat in deep discussion with Will over a file the latter held. She asked Ronnel to take Jon his coffee and brownie and went straight to her father’s office. After the last visit from one of them, she didn’t want Jon to be hurt again. 

“Nan, may I?” Sansa asked. As if the sweet older woman would say _no_ to Ned Stark’s daughter unless he was with a client.

“Of course, my dear.”

Sansa steadied her breath and entered her father’s office. “Your eleven o’clock is here.”

“I know. Kyra already called through to Nan.”

“I don’t know what they told you when they booked the appointment, but _Ray Nymeros_ is not a man. _Ray Nymeros_ isn’t the name of the young woman out there. It took a few minutes, because they were both wearing hats the last time I saw them, but I got there in the end. Dad, that’s Jon’s sister and grandmother out there.”

“What? But, Aegon made it clear – I didn’t believe we would need to deal with the Targaryens in person again. Nan did say they called to make an appointment to discuss an issue with a Will. Okay.” Her father lifted his phone and pressed a button. “Nan? Could you collect my next appointment from reception, please?”

“I can’t simply ask them to leave. It will draw attention to them and I don’t want that for Jon, or for you – not after the Harry Hardyng fiasco and not after we managed to get Aegon out of here without causing a scene. We need to hear them out. I must admit, I am curious to hear what they have to say.”

“I thought they weren’t going to pursue a challenge to Jon’s inheritance”, Sansa murmured. “Do you think they’ve changed their minds?” Surely if Aegon wanted to challenge it, he would have indicated an intention to do so at the last meeting. Jon had told her how obstinate he had been.

Her father shook her head. “They don’t want to challenge it because if they do, Rhaegar’s Will shall become a matter of public record – or, at least, that is my assumption. They don’t want the negative press attention that will ensue. It is selfish, but I am relieved for Jon’s sake that he won’t be put through that. Besides, I’ve already had confirmation through of the charitable donation the estate made in Jon’s name.” Sansa hadn’t thought of the publicity. From what Jon and her father had told her, she didn’t think Aegon Targaryen the type of man who would want to see the press savage his family over Rhaegar’s relationship with Lyanna. 

And then Nan was at the door with Rhaenys and Mrs. Targaryen. Sansa couldn’t recall the name of Rhaegar’s mother. She paid more attention to them as Nan showed them in. If she was surprized to see Sansa still in her father’s office, she didn’t show it. Nan had been with the firm for as long as Sansa could remember and was discrete. 

“Good morning, Miss Nymeros”, her father began when Nan had left the room. “Or, should I say, Miss Targaryen?” 

Sansa watched closely as Rhaenys took her grandmother’s hand again. “When did you figure it out? I thought – my mother sometimes calls me Rhae, and I thought her maiden name too obvious at first, but then most people just call her _Martell_ not _Nymeros Martell_. I took a punt.”

“I didn’t. My daughter did.”

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes at Sansa but said nothing. “You saw pictures of my father’s funeral in the newspapers or online? Or the TV reports?”

“I was there. With Jon”, Sansa replied. “If you’re here to speak to him like your brother and that Connington man did – “

“I don’t know exactly what Aegon said when he was here, but going by his blustering when he returned to Dragonstone I would guess it wasn’t anything good.” She exchanged a look with her grandmother. “We’re not here to attack Jon. We’re here because my grandmother would like to know her grandson. And because, unlike Egg, I would like to know my half-brother.”

Sansa looked at her father, who nodded. “Sansa, ask Jon if he could come here please.”

-

Jon felt as if his heart was simultaneously in his throat and ready to jump out of his chest when he walked into Ned’s office. He hadn’t expected further contact after the notification of the charitable donation he’d requested and wondered what Sansa had meant by her murmurs that Ned _needs to speak to you about your legal issue_. The only legal issue Jon had related to the Targaryens.

He did not expect to see the two women who turned around the moment he entered the office. Jon heard the audible gasp in his voice though it was so involuntary it might have come from someone else. He knew who they were; he recognized them just as he’d recognized Aegon. 

“Hello”, he said, not sure what else to say but knowing silence wasn’t going to be something that could last long. Jon did the same thing as he had during the last meeting and went to sit in the seat next to Ned. The fact that they were still in the building after speaking to Ned told Jon that perhaps there was a slight chance that maybe, just maybe, they _weren’t_ here to simply repeat Aegon’s words. 

“You are Jon?” It was the older woman – the one Jon recognized as Rhaegar’s mother – that spoke. _His grandmother_. Jon nodded. Perhaps it was best to hear them out, listen to what they had come to say. His eyes moved between his – gods, his _grandmother_ – and Rhaenys, Jon’s half-sister.

“Arthur Dayne has told me a lot of good things about you in the past few weeks. I had hoped to make this journey earlier, but my health has sadly not permitted it. Doctor Pycelle is an old fusspot, but I am not allowed to do anything but listen to his advice. Dayne tells me that you’re studying Northern Law, is that correct?”

“It is”, Jon replied. “I just finished my first year.”

“You realize, I would assume, that Jon is interning here over the summer?” Ned put in. Jon threw him a small side-smile, relieved yet again that he had been in a position to source legal representation from someone who had known him for a very long time. 

“Oh, yes. Dayne’s tongue has been looser over the last few weeks than it has been since I first met him.” From the steely set of her mouth, Jon guessed that Mrs. Targaryen was _not_ someone who suffered fools gladly. “As soon as he let slip I had another grandchild – one whose existence had been kept from me for over twenty years – I made sure to find out as much as I could.”

Jon gulped, feeling he was at a disadvantage. What did the Targaryens know about him? And how did they know it – unlike his knowledge of them, they could hardly study news reports. Had Rhaenys and their grandmother already judged him as Aegon had? Their attitude thus far said perhaps not, but Jon was too used to disappointment when he encountered the paternal side of his family to raise his hopes. 

Jon wished Sansa were here with him. 

“If Gamma Rhae had been well enough then we’d have come before Aegon and that imbecile Connington”, Rhaenys informed him. She turned to look at their grandmother. “Sorry, Gamma, but he _is_. He’s been filling my brother’s empty head with rubbish for years. What my father saw in him, I will never know – actually, no, I _do_. Probably the fact that Connington is a _man_.”

Rhaenys rolled her eyes and huffed. Jon raised an eyebrow. “Sorry”, she said. “No offense intended, but I’ve found on this side of the family that the intellect of the women far exceeds that of the men. My guess is that you’ll probably prove the exception to the rule.”

Jon coughed, not quite sure what to say to that. Rhaenys was certainly something and Jon felt a burgeoning desire to know his half-sister better. She appeared smart, witty and friendly – in essence, the antithesis of the Aegon he had encountered. 

“Connington has known your father for many years, Rhaenys.”

“So has Dayne, and he lied to us for most of them.”

“He _withheld information_. Information we now have and would like to build on. Jon, Rhaenys and I would like you to join us for lunch.” 

“I……I would like that”, Jon replied. After all, wasn’t this what he’d wanted from Rhaegar all along? To know his family. “I would like for Sansa to join us if you don’t mind.”

This was what he had wanted, but spending time alone with Rhaenys and their grandmother was a big step for Jon. With the emotional upheaval he’d experienced since Rhaegar’s death, Jon knew this was something he was better off not doing alone. Besides, if they wanted to be part of Jon’s life then that meant knowing and accepting Sansa was becoming a huge part of it.

“The redhead who was at the funeral with you?” Rhaenys asked. 

“Yes.”

It only took a few minutes to make the arrangements. Jon and Sansa would meet Rhaenys and – as she insisted on Jon calling her – _Gamma_ at Gage’s at one. It was a small beginning but one Jon hoped would grow into something bigger. There was a voice in Jon’s head reminding him to go slowly with this. _Cautious optimism. Cautious optimism_. They were far more welcoming than Aegon had been, but their open arms didn’t necessarily mean they’d be an instant happy family. 

Jon left them with Ned, having swapped numbers with Rhaenys, and headed back to his desk. He had an afternoon meeting to prepare for in relation to the Flowers case and needed to refresh his memory with some equalities legislation. Sansa stopped him en route, as he had guessed she might, and was pleased to hear his meeting had actually gone well. 

It only remained for Jon to see if this was a false dawn in his relations with the Targaryens. 

-

Jon fidgeted with the cutlery situated on his napkin and looked again at the door of Gage’s to see if the bell in the top corner had rung because Rhaenys and – and _Gamma_ had come in. He and Sansa had arrived there at twelve forty-five and chosen one of the quietest tables. Jon moved the salt and pepper shakers, lining them up neatly, and felt Sansa’s hand still him. 

“They’ll be here soon”, she assured him, threading her fingers lightly through his. 

“They will”, Jon agreed. Sansa had her insecurities around relationships because of Joffrey and Jon had his around the Targaryens because of Rhaegar and Aegon. So, he tried to still the cartwheels currently taking place inside his gut and remind himself that Rhaenys and _Gamma_ had invited him to lunch. _They_ had asked. Not him.

This was not how Jon had expected his Monday to go. 

Jon raised his and Sansa’s entwined hands and kissed the back of hers. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Just being nosy”, Sansa teased. “Jon….seriously, we were going to be having lunch together anyway.”

“Yeah, _ourselves_.”

“Sometimes not knowing is the worst thing – at least if it doesn’t work out, then you will have tried”, Sansa told him. She turned her head and smiled. “Look, there they are now.”

Jon looked over to the door and saw them catch sight of himself and Sansa, pointing over in their direction when one of the servers stopped to offer assistance. 

Had Jon met Aegon and Rhaenys without having seen their pictures or in person beforehand, he would’ve found it hard to believe they were brother and sister. Only their dark eyes marked them out as related. Where Aegon was tall, Rhaenys was short. Aegon had inherited Rhaegar’s pale hair, while Rhaenys had locks as dark and curly as Jon’s. And Aegon had done nothing to make him feel welcome, whereas Rhaenys had invited him to lunch. 

Jon recalled Robb once telling him that after one of their arguments, Ned had reminded Sansa and Arya that though they were as different as the sun and the moon, they were still family. Aegon and Rhaenys thus far struck Jon as being light as day and dark as night respectively.

He stood up when Rhaenys and Gamma reached the table. This was the _North_. This was his _home_. Jon was the one who should feel comfortable here, he decided. “You managed to find it.”

“We did. Or, rather, our driver did”, Rhaenys replied, taking the seat opposite Jon’s. “After we met you earlier, he took us to a few stores and then brought us on here.”

 _Our driver_. Another reminder of the gulf between his life and that of the Targaryens. Jon had a banged up second-hand car unlikely to live longer than the following summer, and the Targaryens had _a driver_.

“This is Sansa.” Jon turned and smiled at her, finding comfort in her big blue eyes. 

“Can I get you folks anything to drink?” They were interrupted by the server, a tall woman with wavy pink hair. Once they’d placed their order for drinks and decided they should probably look at the menu, Jon realized they’d fallen into a normal lunch outing – or something that maybe felt like it could be one, at least. 

“What’s good here?” Gamma asked him. 

“We only usually have a burger or stuffed baguette when we’re in here at lunchtime”, Jon replied. He glanced down the menu. “But their pasta dishes are nice.”

“The sweet potato fries are good”, Sansa added. Jon smiled at her. Splitting a portion of them had become a bit of a thing for him and Sansa. 

“Are you ready to order?”

“We are”, Rhaenys replied once they’d all been given their drinks. “I’ll have the tuna pasta salad and a side of garlic bread. Gamma?”

“Oh, let me see, I think I’ll have pasta – the chicken and pesto one.”

“Spaghetti, penne or linguine?”

“Spaghetti.”

“And Sansa and I will both have the lemon chicken baguettes and a side of sweet potato fries to share”, Jon added. He hoped that now they’d ordered, they might be left alone to get to know each other a bit better. Wasn’t that why they’d asked him to lunch? Though Jon was now finding it wasn’t exactly an ideal setting with interruptions and surrounded by people. Maybe they would have been better off having drinks in a private bar somewhere. Best case scenario would be at their hotel, but Rhaenys had told him back in Ned’s office that they were only in the North for the day. 

Jon couldn’t imagine going further than White Harbour or Moat Cailin – or even Queenscrown – on a day trip.

“How long have you been together?” Rhaenys asked when they were alone again. “You are together, aren’t you? I haven’t just made a wild assumption?”

“We’re still pretty new I guess”, Sansa replied. “Though it doesn’t feel like it because we’ve known each other for so long. I think I was two years old the first time I met Jon. That’d be about right, wouldn’t it?”

“I went to school with Sansa’s brother”, Jon explained. 

“You went to the local school?” Rhaenys asked. Jon nodded. “Dayne told us you went to White Harbour for under-grad. Northern History, is that not correct? And now you’re at WHU Law. Scholarships all the way through.” Jon wondered if the magic Mr. Dayne had provided them with his transcripts.

“Just finished my first year – or it feels like I’ve just finished it, but the new semester starts in a few weeks. Did – where did you go?” he asked Rhaenys.

“Sunspear. My cousins went there. Or go there. Most of my mother’s family. Politics, followed by a Masters in Communication. I work for the family firm, _but_ they’ve still not worked out my job title – though I’ve been there over a year. PR, but mainly I organize corporate events.” Jon recalled the derision in her voice when Rhaenys had spoken about appointing Connington as Aegon’s advisor simply because he was _a man_ ; he recalled what he now recognized as underlying bitterness when she professed a hope Jon would be the exception to the rule when it came to intelligence and Targaryen men. 

Jon had already decided Rhaenys was smarter than Aegon, and most likely smarter than him, but had been side-lined because of her gender – or felt she had, which in her mind would amount to the same thing. In any case, she seemed to be too smart to spend her life planning parties and Jon had known her for less than two hours. 

“I want to tell you how sorry I am”, Gamma interrupted. She grabbed Jon’s hand across the table. “We can sit here and talk about what we do for a living – or hope to – and where we studied. There is time enough for that. But it shouldn’t be something we need to talk about. Jon – if I had known, had any inkling that I had another grandchild…..”

“It’s not your fault”, Jon told her. “I could never, ever blame you.” She seemed a really sweet woman and Jon hoped they could work something out here, because – though he hadn’t really recognized it until now – Rhaegar had withheld something from more than just Jon. He had kept Jon from his family, but he’d also kept Jon’s family from him. Jon and Aegon were likely not destined to ever be friends but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get to know some or all of the rest of the Targaryens. 

“Dayne told me that you and Rhaegar never met.”

Jon shook his head. “I know my mother met Dayne, and he wrote to me once to offer me money, but I never met Rhaegar. She’s – my mother’s always been open with me about Rhaegar. About how they met. About the paternity test. About the money offers she turned down. We’re really close. I remember my grandmother a little – my mother’s mother. She’s a hazy figure. I was very young when she died; just a toddler, really. It’s always just been the two of us, my mother and me.” 

_Money_. It was the unspoken topic that lay between them……the inheritance Jon had rejected; had handed over to a charity that had helped him more than Rhaegar’s indifference ever could. That hadn’t been mentioned thus far.

“What’s she like?” Rhaenys asked. Jon could see genuine curiosity in her eyes. 

“Smart. Loyal. Sweet. Funny. She’s a nurse. Nurse manager in the local ER. She’s worked really hard to get there.” Jon could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke of his mother. He spoke truly – he _was_ proud of her.

“Connington’s jealous of her”, Rhaenys told him flatly. She took a deep pull on the colourful cocktail she’d ordered and tossed her hair over her left shoulder.

“Honestly, Rhaenys. You need to cease this vendetta against the man. He was a good friend to your father.” Jon got the impression this was a long-running discussion between grandmother and grand-daughter.

“A good friend to my father who wanted to be more and it has left him filling Aegon’s head with rubbish about how our father was perfect.” Rhaenys turned back to Jon. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother – immature as he may be for someone his age – but he has got to let go of this idea he has to live up to some perfect image he has of our father.”

Jon felt Sansa’s comforting hand on his again. 

“We can discuss this another time, Rhaenys. We are here to get to know Jon, are we not?”

“We are”, Rhaenys agreed. 

“While I realize my son failed you as a father, it lightens my worries to know that you are close to your mother.”

“I am.” Jon bit his lip. She was so nice that Jon didn’t want to tell her about the impact Rhaegar’s death had – and continued to have – on his mother. 

“I haven’t been in the best of health over the last few years, not since my encounter with cancer while Rhae here was at Sunspear. There is no way for me to bring back what you should’ve had, the time I should’ve had with you, but I want to make the best of the time I have left. Whatever your name, you are my grandson and that means something very dear to me, Jon.”

“Thank you”, he replied quietly. 

Jon wasn’t able to say anything else as the server began to place their food in front of them. His mind was going at a thousand miles per hour and the cartwheels in his gut had returned. _Gamma_ wanted to be his family – he finally had a real chance at the only thing he had truly wanted from Rhaegar. 

-

As she made her way through her lemon chicken baguette, Sansa found herself thinking that Rhaenys Targaryen reminded her a little of Arya. Jon’s half-sister had Arya’s unfiltered to the point of bluntness way of speaking at times. She was clearly someone who did not suffer fools gladly (no more than her grandmother appeared to) and rejected any attempt to brush her aside simply because of her gender.

“How did they meet?” Rhaenys asked Jon. It didn’t escape Sansa’s notice that Rhaenys waited until her grandmother had excused herself to the bathroom to ask this question. Rhaenys deferred to her grandmother as Arya did to Catelyn Stark. 

“A music festival in the Riverlands. She went with some older friends.” This piqued Sansa’s curiosity. She couldn’t recall hearing this story before. “I know – like I said, she’s pretty open with me. He might not have told her that he was a husband and father, but my mother admits she wasn’t exactly honest with Rhaegar about her age. She told him she was a couple, three years older than she actually was.”

“She – Jon, how old was your mother when you were born?” This Dayne man seemed to have told the Targaryens _a lot_ about Jon and Lyanna. He seemed to have neglected to mention _this_.

“Seventeen. Not long seventeen”, Jon clarified. 

“Seven hells. I can’t imagine being a mother _now_ , never mind at that age.” Sansa agreed with her. She definitely wanted a family – a big one – in the future, and had always thought longingly of a vague husband and children she could take over to visit her parents to play with their cousins, but _not yet_. _Not now_. Sansa wanted to establish herself in the adult world first and complete her studies. 

Sansa couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Lyanna to find herself sixteen and pregnant to a man who turned out to be married. 

“She’s told me before that, in some ways, we grew up together”, said Jon. “What’s – I guess I always thought about what my mother went through because Rhaegar didn’t want to act like a father with me. I never thought about what it would mean to your mother to find out that I exist. What’s she like?”

Sansa could hear the unspoken question there. _Does your mother hate me simply because I’m proof her husband cheated on her?_

“She doesn’t blame you for any of this”, Rhaenys insisted, clearly hearing the same silent query Sansa had. “Mamma is angry at Dayne. Their families knew each other when she was a toddler. Dayne got the sharp end of several tongues when he spilled the truth. It was quite strange. He read the Will and then told us what it _didn’t_ say. Aegon started shouting, Gamma was in tears and – I can say it now Gamma isn’t here, but I swear that looking at Connington you would’ve thought _he_ was the one discovering he’d been cheated on.”

“Okay”, said Jon quietly. Sansa could tell just by looking at him that he was struggling to deal with everything being thrown at him. It would take Jon time to process this lunch and whatever had been discussed in her father’s office earlier. 

“Speaking of Gamma not being here – please, don’t hurt her to get back at us. I don’t think you will. I don’t think you’re _that person_. To be honest, I would have done whatever it took to keep her away if I thought you could be. It upset her to find out you’d been living up here all these years and she’d no idea you even existed. She wants to make up for all the birthdays she’s missed and talks you never had. When it feels like she’s too much, just go with it. Please.”

“I will”, Jon promised quietly. 

“We shouldn’t have stopped for drinks at that café in the book store”, Mrs. Targaryen informed Rhaenys as she returned. 

“Yes, we should”, Rhaenys replied. “They had excellent cake.”

-

Jon was nervous when he returned home that evening to his mother and the inevitable conversation about his day. She’d had a rest day and had intended to spend it in the garden, tending to her roses. Jon saw her from the kitchen window, clearly having finished and decided it was a perfect day to relax in the garden with a beer and admire her work. 

He smiled and went to the fridge to get himself a beer before going outside. 

“Hey”, said Jon. He sat down on the chair next to his mother’s on the decking and smiled at the sight of Ghost bounding over to greet him. Jon scratched behind the pup’s ears and reflected on how fast he seemed to be growing. It wouldn’t be long before he returned to White Harbour, but Ghost would mean his mother wouldn’t be alone in the house any longer. 

This was the most content Jon had seen her since Rhaegar’s death and it made him wish he wasn’t about to do this. 

“I need to talk to you about something that happened at work today”, he told her without any preamble. In truth, anything else he said now would be buying time. “I had – Rhaegar’s mother and daughter came to see me. I had lunch with them. Well, them _and Sansa_. They said they want to…..open communication, for us to get to know each other.”

He looked into his mother’s eyes and saw flashes of tears there. Jon moved towards her, wondering if he should’ve kept quiet for now – just until he saw where things went – but she raised her hand and stopped him. 

“I’m not – this is what I wanted for you with Rhaegar. All I wanted. For you to know your family. They were good people?”

“I think so.” Jon recalled Rhaenys and Gamma both pulling him into tight hugs and promising to call when they got back to Dragonstone. He still couldn’t believe it had all happened and knew it would take a long time for him to process it acclimatize to having Rhaenys and Gamma in his life. “Sansa said she thinks Rhaenys is a bit like Arya.”

“There are few higher recommendations in my book.”

“However much time I spend with them, however much I get to know them, it’ll always be you and me first”, Jon promised her. He wanted to make it clear in no uncertain terms was he trading in his mother for a shiny, new rich family. 

“Jon – that – I don’t _ever_ want you to think you have to choose.” She grabbed his hand tightly and squeezed it. “Come on. Drink up your beer. There’s a few more in the fridge for us to work our way through and it looks like a good night for a barbeque.”

-

As was typical for just about every fifteen year old Sansa knew, her brother Rickon had recoiled at the very idea his sister might give him a congratulatory birthday hug. He had been asleep – it may have been his birthday but Rickon _was_ very much a typical teenager – when Sansa left for work in the morning and so it wasn’t until dinnertime that she could offer Rickon birthday wishes in person.

He had an afternoon out arranged with his friends for Saturday and had agreed to a family barbeque on the day itself. Sansa suspected they would spend the day at the arcade downtown, which held a number of vintage games she knew Rickon secretly liked more than he let on to some. 

Jon had driven her back from work, her father having left an hour or so earlier than usual to begin setting up the barbeque and Sansa thought it probably for the best. She knew Jon was nervous about tonight. Her mother had suggested it casually the other day – so Jon could have a few beers, it would make sense for him to stay over rather than risk driving while over the limit. Lyanna had a few rest days and would be home for Ghost so that was not an issue. Still…..Sansa knew he was nervous at the thought of staying over. 

Sansa wasn’t sure _why_. He had no reason to be – but then Sansa had been nervous the first time she had stayed over at Jon’s and had soon discovered _she_ had no need to be nervous.

“Gilly texted me earlier to double-check what time we’re due down in White Harbour on Friday”, Sansa smiled as they drove home. She was looking forward to it immensely. A weekend away was a big step in her relationship with Jon – Dragonstone had been different, a funeral. This was a break just for the two of them.

Jon grinned. “Yeah, Sam said she was starting to get a bit panicked. He’s had to start going into school a couple of hours a day to prepare for the start of next term – well, he hasn’t _had_ to, but this is _Sam_ so he was always going to. In any case, it’s left Gilly with the remaining preparations for the engagement party.”

“I said I wasn’t sure how long it’ll take us to drive down.” When she and Jon had travelled down for her interview at WHU they had taken the train, but her mother had offered to lend her car to Sansa for the trip and it had been so useful not to be bound by the train schedule. “What do you think?”

“It depends on when we leave. We’ll have tourists and rush-hour traffic to deal with at different stages. When do you want to be there?”

Sansa thought about it. She’d heard Gilly’s SOS well enough. “As early as possible without us being so tired we can’t actually be of any functional help.”

“Around seven thirty”, Jon chuckled. “You can pick me up then and we’ll pick up coffee at the drive-thru. Black coffee, very strong.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing Robb and Jeyne”, said Sansa as they turned into her street. They were due to fly into Hornwood Northern on Saturday afternoon and Sansa suspected making it easier for Robb and Jeyne to get from the airport to White Harbour had been a factor in her mother’s offer of the car for the weekend. Whatever the reason for it, Sansa was looking forward to seeing her big brother again and hearing his news……his explanations….she wanted to know the truth and to end the worried knot in her belly that accompanied thoughts of Robb at present. 

“Me too. I know you’re worried about him, Sans. I am too. We just need to truth that he knows what he’s doing and remember that we’re going to see him in three days. Less than, even. Less than seventy-two hours.” He grabbed her hand across the console and threaded his fingers through hers momentarily. 

“It’s been one hell of a summer”, Sansa snorted. Jon laughed and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, it has. But a good hell of a summer.”

“The best”, Sansa agreed, looking at Jon. There had been good moments and bad ones since the day she’d stepped on the train in King’s Landing determined not to return there at the end of the summer, but if Sansa had to choose and cherish one happy memory from this summer it would always simply be _Jon_.

“Here we are”, he said a moment later. Sansa quickly spotted Gendry’s car and realized they were the last to arrive. She watched as Jon eyed his overnight bag warily. 

“You don’t have to be nervous”, she assured him. Jon raised an eyebrow and Sansa went around the other side of the car to link her arm with his. “I was nervous the first night I stayed over at yours, you know. Not the night when we watched movies and you were a perfect gentleman – the night where we both stayed in your room.”

“But why? You’ve known my mother for – “ Jon bowed his head. “Yeah, okay, I get your point.”

“Come on. We’ll put your bag up in my room before Arya sees it and passes comment. I need to go up there anyway to get Rickon’s present.”

-

“This is so cool! You’re such a dude, Jon!” Rickon exclaimed, whacking her boyfriend on the back. Jon seemed as pleased as Rickon when he’d opened the t-shirt (which seemed to relate to one of the video games her brother played) and a handful of tickets to an autumn gaming event for Rickon and some of his friends.

“You know what they say, Jon – the fastest way to your girlfriend’s heart is through her brother’s gaming addiction”, Arya jested. “Here, too-tall – this is from me and Gendry.”

Sansa watched as Rickon unwrapped his final present, a gift card for a dirt biking experience day at Wolfswood Country Park. She could see him itching to hug Arya but he didn’t seem to want to let his coolness falter and simply gave her a high-five.

“Though, you have a cheek calling me too-tall. Maybe it’s just that you’re too- _short_.”

Arya narrowed her eyes at him. “I could use that gift card myself, you know. Gendry and I enjoy dirt biking ourselves. Lem would be happy to let us have more than the allocated time if it wasn’t too – “

“Okay, okay”, Rickon grumbled. _Thank you_. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

“ _Starving_?” Sansa heard her father mumble. “You’ve already had a couple of burgers and a rack of ribs.” But he made his way back to the barbeque all the same.

“He’s a growing boy, dad”, said Arya. 

Sansa caught Bran’s eye and smiled. Arya and Rickon could be like this for hours on end, but the second one of them found out that someone had made fun of the other you wouldn’t know they’d ever bickered. Her family was a little strange but Sansa had always liked it that way. 

She took Jon’s hand and pulled him over to the picnic-style benches her parents had set up in their vast back garden. It was made for barbeques and lazy summer nights with a bottle of wine and secrets to share. 

“I got a text from Rhaenys today. She says that Gamma’s birthday is in a few weeks”, Jon told her as he set his bottle of beer down on the table. Sansa smiled. 

She wanted to see Jon build a good relationship with his half-sister and grandmother. They were his blood and she wanted him to have the same family experience she’d always had. Rhaenys had sent a few text messages since her return to Dragonstone and Sansa knew Jon had plans to video call his grandmother the following evening, before they went to White Harbour.

“Would – will you help me pick out a gift for her?” Jon asked. 

“We might see something in White Harbour”, Sansa suggested. “I think something Northern from her Northern grandson might be nice. What do you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good”, Jon agreed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled Sansa in, kissing the side of her head. She melted into his arms and realized just how comfortable and how right it felt to be here. 


	24. All you need is love

Not used to driving further than a neighbouring town or three away, Sansa was relieved when she pulled up outside an old brick building that Jon had directed her to. They had passed some WHU buildings Sansa recognized a few streets away and were clearly still in the part of the city inhabited by students and burgeoning academics and young professionals. The building must be a century or two old and the windows looked to be practically floor to ceiling judging by the amount of glass she could see. 

“Sam and Gilly’s place is on the second floor”, Jon told her. He pointed up at a couple of windows next to the neighbouring building. “They’ve been here for a little over a year. They moved in together after Sam and I finished our under-grad.”

“It’s beautiful”, Sansa breathed. The building, the neighbourhood, the people……they were all so welcoming. Sansa was struck again by the chasm between White Harbour and King’s Landing. She pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head and grabbed her tote bag from the back seat.

“You want me to take that for you?” Jon asked. Sansa shook her head and smiled. 

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” Sansa glanced up and saw a beaming Gilly waving down at them. “Look!”

Gilly met them on the first floor and immediately pulled Sansa, and then Jon, into a hug. “We’re so happy you could both come. Sam went out to the deli round the corner to pick up a few things for lunch. Come on up and we’ll get you settled. We can have something to eat when Sam gets back and then head over to _The Wolf’s Den_. Or, maybe we should leave the deli food and have lunch at _The Wolf’s_ _Den?_ Come on, I’ve set up the spare room for you both.”

Sansa chuckled and followed Gilly up the stone stairs to a bright green door, which her new friend held open. It led into a narrow hallway with a high ceiling and an open door into what Sansa suspected was the main living area. She could see a large corner sofa in there and the almost full length windows she’d seen from outside. 

“Put your bags in here”, Gilly told them. She opened a door opposite the living room and Sansa could see a plain but carefully decorated room with cream walls and a silvery bedspread. There was somewhere for Sansa to hang up the dress she’d brought for the engagement party (a new one she’d bought at late night shopping with her mother recently) and a dressing table where she could lay out a few things. 

“It’s beautiful”, Sansa told Gilly. She set down her bag and immediately took out the dress bag to hang up. Jon hadn’t seen the dress yet and Sansa couldn’t wait to see his reaction. She’d chosen the dress because _she_ liked it, but it hadn’t escaped Sansa’s notice that Jon would like to see her in it. _And_ help her out of it.

“Is that for tomorrow night?” Gilly asked. Sansa nodded. “I treated myself to a new dress for it. I wasn’t going to, but I was helping Sam with shopping for some new work clothes and I saw something I liked. Sam said he was getting new clothes and I should get something new too.”

Once they’d set their bags down, Jon took her hand in that way he always had and they followed Gilly through to the living room. Sansa had been to visit Robb in White Harbour and couldn’t help but wish she would be spending the next couple of years somewhere like this rather than the place Jon and Robb had found years ago and continued to return to. 

There was another large corner sofa in addition to the one Sansa had seen from the hallway. One of them faced the TV and the other the windows. She could picture evening parties in past decades, with people drinking and dancing late into the night. This was the perfect room for it. Sansa sat next to Jon on the sofa facing out the windows and felt very much at _home_. It was as if she had suddenly found her place to be – with Jon, and his – now _their_ – friends.

“Gilly! That’s me back! Have you heard from them yet?” Sansa smiled at the sound of Sam’s voice filling the apartment and turned round to see him come in the door. He lay down his shopping bags and then came round to hug them both as Gilly had. 

“How was the drive down?” Sam asked. “Were there motor homes all the way down the highway? White Harbour’s been full of them for weeks. Tormund keeps going down to the sea where they park up to try and figure if any of them are interested in a tour from him. He’s trying to move on from that exchange student barwoman he was after last semester. And the semester before that. Have you met Tormund yet, Sansa?”

“Not _yet_.” Though Sansa had heard enough about the man to be intrigued. He seemed so different to Jon, but then perhaps that was what made their friendship so tight. 

“We had thought about inviting him over tonight, along with Grenn and Pyp and Edd, but we figured a quiet night in would be best with the party tomorrow night”, said Sam. Sansa quite liked the idea of the four of them having a night in together. She hoped that might become a regular occurrence next semester. Sansa looked forward to the promise of more of this. She also thought of nights in that she and Jon could share with Robb and Jeyne, but thoughts of her brother brought with them pangs of pain at the distance that had grown between them over the summer. 

Robb would be here, in White Harbour, in a little over twenty four hours. Sansa had to focus on that and the joy she knew seeing her brother again would bring to her. 

-

In the end, they had decided to go to _The Wolf’s Den_ for lunch. Sam and Gilly had some last minute arrangements to go over with the manager, they had decorations to hang, and they decided the cold meats and crusty breads Sam had picked up at the deli would be put to better use for a quick Saturday lunch before Jon and Sansa set out for the airport to pick up Robb and Jeyne. 

While Jon had every faith in Robb and Jeyne, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about seeing them again. Their contact had dwindled over the summer and although he tried to calm Sansa’s fears as much as possible, it hadn’t stopped Jon from having some of his own. It wasn’t like Robb to distance himself from his family. 

When they went through to the living area after Gilly’s homemade fish pie, however, Jon pushed these thoughts from his mind. They would see Robb in less than twenty four hours and that would calm both he and Sansa. The drive to White Harbour gave them a good three quarters of an hour to speak privately before dropping Robb and Jeyne at their hotel.

Gilly insisted on topping up their wine glasses, but Sansa curled up next to him and insisted that would need to be her last. “I need to be able to drive tomorrow. Okay, perhaps one or two more, but that’s it!”

“That dinner was amazing”, Jon told Gilly as she topped up his glass. “Thanks.”

Jon loved his mother but home cooking had never been somewhere her talents lay. As such, Jon had a tendency to appreciate proper meals when made for him from scratch rather than warmed in a microwave or ordered from a take-out restaurant. Gilly had been taught how to cook by her mother and her food was – in Jon’s opinion – second only to Catelyn Stark’s.

“Less than a week until you start at West White Harbour High – any nerves?” Jon asked Sam. He’d originally been hired at White Harbour Academy, but the school had lost some funding and been unable to take on Sam and another newly qualified teacher. 

“You mean am I worried that they’ll use the fact that I’m only a few years older than some of them to take advantage of me?” Sam asked. “Obviously – I remember what it was like at my school when we had a student teacher. We were horrible! Having a first year teacher meant we were only slightly less awful.”

“I hate to say it, but we were definitely the same”, said Sansa. “I remember Arya getting into awful trouble once for teasing a student teacher. I think the poor woman decided to give it up after that. So, there is a bright side to this, Sam. Arya is starting at Wintertown U in a few weeks and so you’ll never have to teach her.”

“And there’s no reason for the Starks to transfer Rickon down here”, Jon added. You could definitely tell that Arya and Rickon were related. If there was trouble afoot in the Stark household it was almost always traced back to one or both of them. During the winter holidays when the snows fell deep in Wintertown, the two of them were banned from being in the same team for snowball fights. 

“In any case, I’ve been in a couple of days a week recently and got a feel for my classroom. I’ve got all my lessons for the first few weeks all planned out. I’m really looking forward to the War of Northern Independence with the final year students.”

Jon could tell that Sam was about the start on one of his long discussions on their shared love of history and decided to save Sansa and Gilly – as much as he wanted to talk about this conflict – by changing the subject and asking after Sam’s brother, Dickon.

“He’s on a peacekeeping mission in the Disputed Lands”, Sam replied. “He says he will do what it takes to get leave for the wedding. We aren’t planning on getting married until next summer in any case and Dickon’s tour should be over by the spring. They won’t send him back until the end of next year at the earliest unless something with the peace settlement goes badly wrong – or, at least that’s what Dickon says.”

“Do you have any family in the army?” Gilly asked Sansa.

“Uncle Benjen was for a while, but he lives up in Queenscrown now.” Peacekeeping mission or not, Jon knew Robb – and presumably Sansa – had been relieved when he retired and set up his own security company. 

“It’s strange. I already feel like I know so much about your family because of Robb”, Gilly replied. Jon took Sansa’s hand in his at the mention of Robb. He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed gently. Sansa lay her head on his shoulder and moved in closer to him. 

“Do you have anything else you need to do while you’re here?” Sam asked. “For next semester?”

“Not really”, Jon replied. He turned to Sansa. “I think we’re both sorted on that score. I just wanted to go shopping on Sunday, before we go home, for Gamma Rhae’s birthday present.”

“Gamma ray? Is this for a Bruce Banner/Hulk fan?” Sam asked. Jon grinned. Sam was such a comic book geek. He’d been to so many Marvel movies with Robb, but it was Sam that had brought the characters to life for him when they first met. He’d talked of the source material with such love and expertise. 

“No, my grandmother.”

Sam looked confused. “I thought your grandmother died before you started school. You told me it had only ever been you and Lyanna.”

“My grandmother on my father’s side. He, uh, he died recently and she found out that I existed and reached out to me”, Jon told him quietly. He looked behind Sam and fixed his gaze on a picture on the wall. It was of a winter scene set, presumably, around where Gilly had come from. 

“Your father – Jon, why didn’t you say anything?” Gilly asked him instantly. 

“Did you see him……before it happened?” Sam added. 

Jon hesitated. He could do it. He could tell them that he was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and the _Gamma Rhae_ he spoke of was Rhaegar’s mother. But not now. This weekend was about Sam and Gilly’s engagement and not the bad side of his summer. Maybe soon, though. 

“No. No, it was pretty sudden. He had a lawyer who knew about me and so his mother contacted me after the funeral.” Sam and Gilly must’ve picked up on his hesitancy to elaborate further as they soon changed the subject. 

Jon was hopeful he’d reach a place where he could talk about it openly and honestly to people he cared about and trusted. He just wasn’t quite there yet.

-

Sansa was both excited and nervous at the thought of seeing Robb again, and as she and Jon set out for the airport. It was at least an hour before they truly needed to leave, but between the butterflies flitting around in the depths of Sansa and the holiday traffic around Jon had suggested over the eggs benedict Gilly had made for breakfast that they might head out earlier than they’d originally intended. 

The two of them had spent so much time together over the summer – and become so close – that Sansa had to remind herself every now and then that Jon was her brother’s best friend as well as being her boyfriend. He was filled with as much anticipation over Robb’s arrival as she was. Sansa also figured Jon was likely more worried about Robb than he let on. She knew he tried to play things down to calm her nerves and allowed him that.

When they pulled out on the highway, Sansa relaxed a little. She murmured along with the lyrics of the songs playing on the radio and the traffic was not as bad as expected. 

“I think I might tell Sam about Rhaegar”, said Jon. They were only a few miles from the airport now and the traffic had begun to pick up a little. “Not this weekend and not the second we get to White Harbour for next semester. But, he and Gilly are good friends and I trust them – besides, if things work out with Rhae and she comes to visit then they’ll have to know then, won’t they? Huh. I said I think I might tell _Sam_ but really I suppose I mean _him and Gilly_.”

Sansa thought back to their after-dinner talk the night before and the comments that had followed his mention of Gamma Rhae. “I think you should do whatever makes you comfortable”, Sansa advised. “Don’t tell him because you feel you should but don’t hold back because you feel you shouldn’t say anything.”

“That’s good advice. I know I’ve said it before, Sansa, but thank you. I honestly don’t know how I would’ve got through the last few weeks without you. You’re my person. The person who makes me smile when no one else can”, Jon told her. 

Sansa felt her cheeks colour at that and muttered her thanks. She hated that she still wasn’t entirely used to having a boyfriend who treated her as Jon did. _Everyone_ should have that.

The first song from the _Bael the Bard_ movie’s soundtrack – Sansa’s current ringtone – filled the car. “Where is it?” Jon asked her. 

“In my bag”, Sansa replied. Perhaps her mother was calling to make sure she was up and awake and ready to go and collect Robb? Or perhaps Arya had suddenly thought of something Sansa _had_ to pick up for her that she couldn’t get in Wintertown?

“It’s Robb”, Jon told her when he pulled her phone out. Sansa wished she weren’t driving. 

“Sansa’s driving. Is that you through security?” said Jon. She felt Jon stiffen up next to her. “What do you mean you’re – look, just give us a minute, right. Sansa, take that turn off there and park up at the service station.”

Sansa put on her indicator and felt her heart sink. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on but knew it was nothing good. This weekend had been highlighted on the calendar ever since Sam and Gilly’s invitation had come through. It had been envisioned as a weekend in which she would get to know Jon’s friends and reunite with her brother and Jeyne, but Sansa had a feeling at least part of that wasn’t going to happen after all.

This was one of the smaller laybys on the highway between Wintertown and White Harbour. There was a small service station that sold fuel and had a small diner and that was it. She put the car in park and cut the engine, before nodding to Jon. He put the call on speaker and took her hand. 

“You’re on speaker, mate.”

“Robb, what’s happening?” Sansa asked, fearing the worst – that they would need to turn around and go straight back to White Harbour. “Is there a problem with your flight?” 

“I thought we might – I’m so sorry, Sans. Really. I just – someone slashed our tyres last night and we’re still waiting for the police officer we spoke to half an hour ago to turn up. I told him we had a flight to make, but even if the cab was here right now then they most likely wouldn’t let us on the flight. We left it late going to the airport so Jeyne could sleep later. She didn’t get back from work until late last night and it’s been a long week………”

“Someone slashed your tyres?” Sansa had so many questions for her brother, but that was the first one she blurted out. She knew Jon could her the stress in her brother’s voice as much as she could. “Why? What? Why would someone do that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, this is mostly a good neighbourhood. There are some similar looking cars in the street – maybe someone mistook my car for someone else’s? I don’t know. But if I want the insurance company to pay out then I have to deal with it properly. I miss you, Sans. I really wanted to see you this weekend.”

“I really wanted to see you too”, she replied. Sansa could feel Jon’s hand squeeze hers and she raised her free one to her face to wipe away the tears that had fallen. Of all her siblings, Robb was the one she’d known the longest and best. He’d played silly games with her when it had just been the two of them, played the knight who protected her from the great monsters who lurked inside her closet and underneath her bed. 

But those memories only made Sansa’s silent tears fall harder. 

“Let us know how it goes with the police officer and your insurance company”, said Jon. “Take care and be safe. Less than two weeks until you’re home.”

“Less than two weeks”, Robb repeated. His internship at Farman was due to end the following Friday – the same day as Jeyne’s – and then they had a few days to close up their rented apartment and celebrate her brother’s birthday. 

It reminded Sansa that she and Jon only had a week left of their own internships. Rodrik had sent a group e-mail on Thursday reminding them there would be a company-wide event on their final day with a buffet lunch and speeches. After that there wasn’t long until she and Jon and Robb and Jeyne would return to White Harbour for the new semester. Her new start. 

Sansa knew Jon had said that to comfort her as much as himself and Robb. And, in truth, the time would pass quickly. Sansa knew it would. But at this moment in time the eleven days seemed to lay out before her like an eternity. 

“We’ll take some pictures and maybe record a few videos at the party tomorrow night”, she heard Jon promise Robb. “Tormund will likely be hammered before too long and he’s always good value for a stupid video.”

“He is”, Robb agreed. “Listen, there’s a police car just come around the corner. With any luck it’ll be the officer that’s coming to see us – I’ll go now and speak to you after you’re home in Wintertown. I love you, Sans.”

“I love you too”, she replied. Then Jon ended the call and Sansa fell into his arms, a sobbing mess. What was happening with her brother? And why wouldn’t he tell her everything _now_?

-

“Sansa, can I come in?” Jon called as he knocked on the door. 

“Just a moment!”

He stood outside the door with only a towel wrapped around his waist and hoped Sam and Gilly didn’t come along. Sansa had gone straight into the bath when they returned from their abandoned trip to the airport. Jon wasn’t sure how long they had been at the service stop. After Sansa had cried her eyes dry, he had taken her inside to the small diner area for a hot cup of tea and a lemon cake. He’d been the one, when she went to the bathroom, to text Arya and let her know that Robb wouldn’t be coming and that Sansa was upset. 

He had been the one to quickly call Sam and ask him and Gilly not to make a big deal of it with Sansa. 

Jon hoped Sansa was feeling even a tiny bit better after her good cry, lemon cake and long, hot bubble bath. At least she’d sounded better when she called through to Gilly that the bathroom was free. He’d only known Rhae for less than a week so couldn’t really match his own experience to what she was going through. 

“You can come in now”, Sansa called. 

Jon stepped into the room and found his breath taken away at the sight of her. He was desperate to reach out and touch her but knew he’d get her wet (though not in a good way) after coming out of the shower and would mess up her make-up and dress. 

“Sansa, you’re……I have no words, seriously.” He bit his lip and left unsaid his thought that nobody was supposed to outshine the bride at these things. She’d curled her hair and then tied some of it up in a complicated looking knot. _The dress_ that she’d casually mentioned in the car on the way down was black and silver and skimmed Sansa’s knees. His eyes caught sight of the silvery heels she wore…..fuck, he wished they were done with the evening already.

“There are no words to describe how amazing and beautiful you look. I’m not going to touch you because I haven’t even properly dried myself from the shower, but fuck – when we get back here tonight, I’m going to get you out of that dress and look at you in those shoes and only those shoes. And then I’ll be spending a good while going down on you in only those shoes.”

Jon winced internally that he’d gone that far with his words, but he’d spoken the truth. 

“So, you like this, then?”

“Oh, yeah. But, then, I’d call you beautiful if you turned up in a sack or a bin liner.” That was also the truth. Her looks were part of her, but they weren’t the why of Jon’s love for Sansa. He loved Sansa because she was even more beautiful on the inside. “Why don’t you go and see if Gilly’s ready? The two of you can have a glass of wine while I get dried off and dressed. I’ll be ten minutes, maybe less.”

“Okay. And, Jon? Thank you for this afternoon. What you said about me being your person and then with Robb – “ Sansa’s voice shook as she uttered her brother’s name – “I just wanted to say that you’re my person too. I just – we’re here and I’m excited for Sam and Gilly and getting to know your friends. I was worried about Robb this morning and I’m worried about him tonight. I’ll also be worried about him tomorrow. This was our weekend. It _is_ our weekend. Also, I bought this dress for both of us; figured the way the skirt part of the dress flares out would give us easy access.”

“I love you-r way of thinking”, said Jon. He planned to tell Sansa that he loved her this weekend, but he did not plan to do it in response to her telling him _that_ about her dress. 

“I’m going to find Gilly. She said something this morning about a bottle of prosecco we could all share before we go over to the party.”

Sansa left the room and Jon groaned, trying to calm himself. He didn’t want to have to explain to Sam and Gilly – far less their guests – that the happy couple were late because the best man was hard at the mere sight of his girlfriend. 

-

When they arrived at _The Wolf’s Den_ , Sansa was pleased that Gilly had bought that bottle of prosecco. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she was a tad nervous about meeting the rest of Jon’s friends. The bubbly had calmed those nerves a tad and Sansa was pleased to see they weren’t the first to arrive. 

“Sammy, you’re here!” A tall girl with Sam’s light brown hair ran over and wrapped her arms around him. The sight of the woman around Catelyn Stark’s age following in her wake told Sansa that this must be Sam’s mother and sister, who were staying at a nearby hotel. Their flight from Oldtown had been delayed the night before and so Sam and Gilly had only been able to spend a short time with them while Sansa and Jon went on their ill-fated drive to pick up Robb and Jeyne. 

After she’d hugged Sam and Gilly, the girl came over and hugged Jon. “Talla, it’s been a while.”

Once, Sansa would have been worried at a pretty girl she’d never met hugging her boyfriend like this, but she trusted Jon and was getting better as time progressed at working through her insecurities. “This must be the girl I’ve heard so much about from Sam. He says you’ve been all googly-eyed about her.”

“I’m Sansa. It’s good to meet you. I love your dress.” Talla wore a green dress that reminded Sansa of the beautiful, rich gardens of the South. It had been pretty, she’d had to give the South that. And Talla’s dress was the same shade as the bright, rich colour of fertile summer gardens. 

“Thanks. I prefer yours, to be honest, but I left my dress buying pretty late. I’ve been interning in Bitterbridge over the summer and that old coot Caswell runs a tight ship – no leaving early for late night shopping. I’d say it was a waste of time, but this summer has completely decided me against going into anything financial.” She rolled her eyes at that and Sansa liked Talla instantly. 

“Is that what you’ve been studying?”

“Gods, no. Fine Arts. This internship was about letting my father think I was moving towards what he considers _a real job_. I should go and get myself and mother a drink. I’ll catch up with you later. Nice meeting you – also, Snow, I have to say Sam was right. You are pretty googly-eyed over this one.” 

Jon chuckled as Talla walked away. “We should probably get drinks ourselves, you know.”

“We should”, Sansa agreed. Meeting Talla had, like meeting Sam and Gilly, gone well. That did not take away her nerves about meeting Tormund and the rest of them. She glanced around the room and decided the decorations they’d arranged brought the walls to life and made it more personal. The music was audible but not so loud that it prevented conversation and the friends and family of the happy couple had begun to arrive. 

Jon did not address Talla’s comments and Sansa didn’t press him on them. She simply took in that those who knew Jon looked at him and saw the way he looked at her. Sansa hoped that it worked both ways and that those who knew her looked her way and saw how she looked at Jon. Not tonight – they were drinking tonight – but sometime soon Sansa wanted to tell Jon that she was pretty sure she was in love with him. 

Sansa tried to imagine the look on Jon’s face when she told him. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jon whispered in her ear. 

“What you were talking about before we left”, said Sansa, trying to keep a straight face – and trying not to blush at the thought of doing what Jon had blurted out. They’d never really done the dirty talk thing but Sansa was thinking now that they should possibly review that. 

“Oh?” Jon’s voice squeaked. “See that is why I don’t usually let myself just talk without thinking first.”

“Well, you have my permission to do that more from now on”, Sansa told him with a smile growing across her face. She took a further few steps to the bar and ordered a glass of wine for herself and a bottle of beer for Jon. Not all the guests had arrived as yet and so Sansa was served quickly. She could see Talla at the other end of the bar, walking away with a bottle of sparkling wine and a couple of glasses, but did not recognize anyone else. 

Sam was from the South – she knew his home in Horn Hill really wasn’t that far away from Highgarden, where Margaery Tyrell came from. In truth, it was about the distance from Wintertown to White Harbour, or near enough, and it wouldn’t be impossible for their families to know one another. 

Sansa pushed such thoughts from her mind, helped by Jon’s comforting arm wrapped around her wasit, and thanked the server for her order. She turned and handed Jon his bottle of beer before clinking her wine glass against it. 

“To Sam and Gilly, and to our weekend away”, she said. 

“That sounds pretty good”, Jon replied. He set his bottle down on the bar and took Sansa’s glass, setting it down next to the bottle. Jon leaned in and kissed her lightly. Sansa soon felt his hands on her waist and moaned – _hopefully quietly_ – at the sensation of him rubbing soft circles on her sides. 

“Snow cone!”

Sansa felt the loss of Jon’s lips with regret and took in the words she’d heard – and the large man approaching herself and Jon. His hair was as red as her own and a beard she quietly hoped Jon wouldn’t try to match. She liked the feel of his scruff on her thighs but this man had a beard food could get lost in. 

“Snow cone!” The man repeated as he pulled Jon into a hug. He turned round and looked at Sansa. “Good taste, Snow. This one is lucky – kissed by fire like me!”

Sansa looked at Jon, waiting for him to introduce them. 

“Sansa, this is Tormund. Tormund, this is Sansa.” Sansa smiled at him. 

“What did you mean by lucky?” she asked. 

“Your red hair.” His accent was strong and marked him as coming from further to the North than anyone Sansa could recall having met. “You’re kissed by fire, like me. That means we’re lucky. Luckier than this morose fucker anyway.”

“I don’t know. She’s here with me so I think that makes me pretty lucky”, Jon told Tormund. He pulled her in closer. Robb might not be here, but Sansa loved that Jon was trying to make this a weekend to remember for her regardless. He was making it about _them_.

-

It was halfway through the evening and Jon found himself feeling merrier than he would’ve anticipated when he held Sansa in the service station diner. He’d had a few beers, Sam and Gilly were beaming and Sansa shone amid his small group of friends. Grenn, Pyp and Edd had been as welcoming to her as Tormund had.

Sansa had even won Tormund’s everlasting friendship by telling him how cool her brother Bran would find him and his ethical hacking studies. She’d even suggested he contact her uncle, Benjen Stark, when his course finished. 

He’d have to tell Robb that Sansa had pushed him out of the role of Tormund’s favourite Stark. 

The music cut out then, and Jon looked over to the end of the room where one of the staff members working the function had set up the music, and saw Sam standing with a microphone. 

“Good evening everyone, I hope you’re all having a good time.”

Grenn and Pyp – who seemed to have started drinking when they went to the pub to watch the late afternoon football match between Gulltown and Harrenhal – whooped loudly at that, and Jon saw Sansa grin, following her gaze to Edd rolling his eyes at the two of them. 

“I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for coming tonight to celebrate with me and Gilly. Gilly’s sisters are mostly all here. My mother and sister have flown up. A lot of our friends are here. Thank you and hopefully you will all be there when we get married. Oh, and thank you to everyone here at _The Wolf’s Den_ for looking after us.”

Jon cheered along with everyone else at that. _The Wolf’s Den_ had become a bit of a home away from home for them during their student days. It hit Jon now, with all they’d spoken of Sam’s impending work start at West White Harbour High the night before, their student days were beginning to come to an end. 

Pyp and Grenn began wolf-whistling as Sam kissed Gilly and Jon decided there and then that the two of them were getting cut off from alcohol at the wedding – at least until the reception was well underway. 

“I really like your friends”, Sansa grinned at him. Jon leaned over and kissed her. 

“They really like you.” Jon took her hand and led her out for a dance. The music was starting up again and Jon Snow was really _not_ a dancer. Sansa loved to dance, though, and he found that he didn’t really mind if it was for her. He knew Sansa had been nervous about meeting his friends. She’d had no need to be, as Jon well knew, but he was relieved that they’d been as restrained as they had. There had been no drunken remarks about how much they’d liked Val or the fact that Sansa was Robb’s sister and Jon had clearly broken some unspoken rule of male friendship. 

“You’ve made this a great night out for me”, she told him, her head on his chest while they moved in rhythm with the slow song. “And it’s a great night for Sam and Gilly. Everyone here is so happy for them.”

“Good.” It had been a great night. They’d had a few drinks but Jon was still hopeful that they might take it back to Sam’s and have at least some version of what he’d described to Sansa earlier. She was so, so beautiful in that dress. 

-

“Morning”, Sansa murmured from next to him when Jon opened his eyes. He looked around them and remembered they were in White Harbour, in Sam and Gilly’s spare bedroom. Jon looked over at her. Sansa’s hair was splayed over the pale blue pillow. The blue of the pillow seemed to bring out her eyes and Jon decided he could drown in them someday. 

“Morning”, Jon replied, and reached out to run his fingers through Sansa’s hair. He blinked a couple of times and decided waiting for a perfect moment was a stupid thing to do. “I love this, waking up next to you. Sansa, I love you.”

Her eyes widened and Jon could see moisture begin to gather there. He really, really hoped that he hadn’t screwed this up. It wasn’t the first time he had said those three words to a girlfriend. He’d said them to Ygritte and then later to Val. But he’d never said it this early in a relationship before. In truth, he’d never _felt_ it this early in a relationship before.

But, he loved Sansa. And he wanted her to know that. 

“I love you, Jon Snow. I didn’t set out to – when I found out you were interning with us this summer, I was just pleased that there would be someone there I already knew. Well, other than my dad. I didn’t think I was in a place where I was ready to love and trust someone again. I didn’t set out looking for what is happening with us but I wouldn’t ever change it.”

Jon moved over and pulled Sansa into a kiss, morning breath be damned. His hand moved around to her back and Jon’s fingers danced up and down Sansa’s bare spine while his tongue danced with hers. Fuck, but Jon could get drunk on Sansa in a moment or three. His hand moved down further and caressed her bare ass. That earned him a moan that he felt in his mouth and travelled down to his cock. 

He forced himself to pull back a little and leaned back on his elbow, drinking in the dark navy rings in her eyes. Last night had been fast and needy as tipsy Jon had removed Sansa’s dress and then proceeded to go down on her while she wore only those damn heels. This morning, however, he’d take his time. This morning, he’d show Sansa just how much he loved her. 

“I love you, Sansa”, he told her again, and moved in for another kiss.


	25. End of the Working Day

“I know we might end up going out for a few drinks after the firm event on Friday, but I thought we might still be able to get a training run in on Saturday”, said Jon. He turned into his street and saw his mother working away in their garden. It brought a smile to his face to see her outside with her roses again. 

“Perhaps in the afternoon”, Sansa replied. “Actually – yes, it would need to be the afternoon. I promised Arya that I’d go out for a few drinks with her on Saturday night and she said a few drinks in such a way that I know I’ll spend most of Sunday in bed with painkillers, trying to remember just why I thought that eighth potent cocktail was a good idea.”

Jon chuckled. “Good. It’s only a couple of weeks until the fun race. We’ve trained so hard all summer. I’d hate to see us fall back this late.”

He turned into the driveway and pulled the car into park. With the end of summer event due to take place at Stark & Sons on Friday, his mother had insisted on taking him – and Sansa – out to dinner tonight to celebrate their successful internships. While Sansa had ducked her head a little at this suggestion and murmured it would hardly be possible for her to fail miserably given her family ran the place, she had agreed to come along for dinner. 

“Five minutes”, his mother promised Jon when he got out of the car. “Five minutes to wash my hands and get changed.”

“We’ll see you in ten”, Jon replied, knowing his mother as well as he did. When she opened the front door, Ghost barked and ran out to greet him and Sansa. “Here, boy. Good boy. You looking forward to dinner?”

Ghost wagged his tail in response. Jon was never quite sure just how much Ghost had learned since he’d come to live with them, but the word dinner certainly counted highly. _The Three Dogs_ was their destination that evening and Ghost was coming with them. 

“His fur is so shiny”, Sansa commented. “How do you manage that? Is it connected to the breed, do you think?”

Jon wasn’t quite sure what breed Ghost was. The pup was certainly a cross mix, but Jon wasn’t in any doubt his shiny fur came down to something other than genetics. “My mother’s been taking him to be groomed. She thinks I don’t know about it, but I found the receipt.” Jon had rolled his eyes – they never really had secrets from one another, but he would allow his mother this one. And, if nothing else, he was pleased she was taking an interest in someone and something apart from him and her grief over Rhaegar. 

“Sneaky”, Sansa giggled. Jon wasn’t sure whether she meant him or his mother. He smiled in any case at the sight of Sansa squatting down to pat Ghost, who seemed more than happy to accept her gentle touch. _Yeah, me too, boy_.

Perhaps one day they might have a pup of their own. 

Jon had to try and set long-term thoughts like that aside. Yes, he loved Sansa and had told her so – on many occasions since that first time at Sam’s on Sunday morning – and yes, she had responded with the same sentiment. But, Jon knew that they had still only been together for a matter of weeks in reality. It was a short time compared even to Robb and Jeyne. He mustn’t allow his thoughts to veer too far into the future. 

He was still a student, as was Sansa. Any thoughts beyond the next semester were premature. Jon didn’t even know what his post-graduation intentions were. And Sansa……she still had two years of under-grad to go. He was unaware of the plans she had for beyond that. 

“Every time I come over to play with him, it makes me happy to see Ghost – but, also, sad to think that my parents decided not to get another dog for one of us after Grey Wind died. I couldn’t have managed it at the time but I wish now they had gone to the shelter to pick out another”, Sansa told him. “When I’ve graduated and I’m living in a building that lets you keep pets, I’m _definitely_ getting a dog. Have you thought about what to do for Ghost?”

“He’s staying with my mother”, said Jon. They would be company for each other – not that his mother lacked friends, but now more than ever he was concerned about leaving her behind when he went to White Harbour. Both the progress she seemed to have made in counselling and the presence of Ghost assuaged those fears as far as possible. 

“Would you get one of your own, though?” Sansa asked. Jon nodded. 

“Yes. One day, I would.” She smiled at that, but their conversation got no further as his mother returned, having changed into a grey vest top and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. 

“ _Told you_ I would only be five minutes”, she said, a smug grin on her face. Jon made no answer. Her grin may be smug, but it was, nonetheless, a grin. 

-

“I told you, my treat”, his mother told them firmly. She took their menus and stood up, before walking towards the door into the bar area. 

“I guess that told us”, said Sansa with a smile. Jon returned it. This was shaping up to being a great evening. His mother was getting better every day, he was out for dinner at what was now one of his go-to places for food, and Sansa was coming back to the house to stay for the night. That wasn’t something they usually did mid-week but Jon had asked and Sansa had accepted. 

For a lot of summer romances this week would signify the beginning of the end of things, but Sansa would be coming to White Harbour with him – and not only that, but they would be living in the same apartment. Spending mid-week nights in each other’s beds would soon become the norm and Jon was very excited for that. He hoped Sansa shared that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sansa asked him. 

“Going back to White Harbour”, Jon replied honestly. He took her hand in his and threaded their fingers. “Spending my evenings with you. We’re so lucky not to be in this position and having to think over going back to different cities.”

“True. I know……there are times when I…….” Sansa turned and looked off in the distance for a moment. “There are times when I get worried about us sharing an apartment. We’ve only been together for a summer and now we’ll be living together? I’ve never lived with anyone before. Not like _that_.”

“Neither have I”, Jon shrugged. He hoped Sansa wasn’t having second thoughts about living with him and Robb. Student housing was awful.

“You – you didn’t live with Val?”

“Nope. She stayed over a couple of nights a week, and I stayed over at her apartment sometimes, but it wasn’t like how we’ll be living together. Sansa – it’s alright to be nervous about it. I am too. I mean, it’s good, exciting nerves, but they’re still nerves, you know?”

“I suppose I want everything to be _right_ , but then I suppose nothing ever truly is in a relationship. Nothing is ever perfect.” Jon wanted to tell her she was, but when he thought about it Sansa had a good point – not only was no _thing_ perfect, no _body_ was either. He needed to remind himself of that. A better way of putting it was to say that he loved Sansa just as she was. No more and no less.

“Living with someone is a whole different pot of birds. I’ve known Robb since we were five and it drove me mad the first few weeks we lived together that he couldn’t do his own laundry. I mean, I know my cooking skills are…..abysmal, but I at least knew how to do that. We had a big blow-out about it and then five minutes later we were laughing at how petty and ridiculous it all was.”

Sansa laughed. “I never heard that story before.”

“Well, now you have.”

“One glass of white wine and two beers”, said Lyanna, interrupting them. She had brought a drinks tray with her, and Jon smiled at the sight of the doggy water bowl on there for Ghost. While his mother dealt with the human drinks, Jon took the water bowl and lay it on the ground for Ghost. The pup was soon lapping away at it. 

“This is such a great place”, Sansa said, looking around at the decking area they were sitting out on. “Cold in winter – do – can you take dogs inside?”

“Yeah. I’ll have to move in probably next month when the autumn starts to kick in”, his mother replied. She took a pull on her bottle of beer. “Sandor says he prefers dogs to humans. As long as the owners take responsibility for their dogs, he is fine with them being inside or out.”

Jon liked to think of her coming here with Ghost when he was back in White Harbour. 

“So, you two ready for the big race then? Ghost and I will be at the finish line to cheer you on.”

Jon looked at Sansa. “I think we’ll be just fine”, she said. The look in her eyes, the steely blue determination he found there, told Jon that she was perhaps talking about more than just the NORTEM fun race. “I’m going to run inside before the food comes. Where……..?”

“Turn left when you go inside the door and you’ll see the signs”, his mother replied. Sansa smiled and Jon watched as she walked away.

“This was a great idea”, said Jon. He clinked his beer bottle against his mother’s. He was driving tonight, but one bottle with his dinner would do no harm. 

“Of course it was. It was _my_ idea.”

“Touche.” That was the kind of smart comment he was used to from her. 

“I thought we deserved some fun, and you’ve worked so hard this summer. I know things haven’t always been….. _easy_ …..but I think we’re starting to get somewhere. Right?” Her hands twisted in her lap and Jon could tell she was somewhat nervous at what he might say. 

“Right”, he agreed. She _was_ getting better. Her counselling was helping and she was beginning to regain the life she’d had before the day he and Sansa had turned up at the hospital and spun her world on its axis.

“Jon, sweetheart, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve found Sansa. I really am. She’s smart and an amazing person. I don’t want you to end up alone like me – not suggesting you marry Sansa next week, but please – don’t end up like me.”

Jon saw the earnestness in her gaze and nodded. Once upon a time he had wondered if his mother hadn’t wanted to add another person to their family dynamic and therefore simply hadn’t dated (or at least brought anyone home) for his sake. Not until Rhaegar’s death had he ever thought about the complex nature of his mother’s love life. What had happened with Rhaegar had happened when his mother was very young – only sixteen years old – and her feelings for him seemed to have been in some sort of time warp. 

He hoped that maybe, one day, his mother might introduce someone to him that she cared for as much as he was coming to care for Sansa Stark.

-

When Sansa walked into the Stark & Sons offices on Friday morning with lemon muffins from Mordane’s in one hand and a coffee from the same establishment in the other, she couldn’t quite believe it was the end of summer. In a fit of nostalgia, she had placed the same order as she had on her first day of work. She took her seat and looked over to where Myranda was packing up the little personalized mementos she had on her desk. 

“Summer is almost over”, Myranda sighed. She sounded almost wistful. Sansa wondered if it was her return to the Gulltown or to studying that Myranda would perhaps have liked to postpone. Sansa realized that although they were studying the same subject, she’d never actually asked Myranda what the syllabus at Gulltown Arts Institute was like or what had drawn her to the course – when she’d been applying herself, KLU’s had been the only course she’d looked at.

“Yeah, it went by very quickly, didn’t it?”

Myranda snorted. “It did, but while the rest of us head back to reality, you’ll just be continuing as you are with Jon – just in White Harbour instead of Wintertown.”

“Not exactly as I am – I’ll have studying to do rather than the sort of work we have here.” Sansa also knew that with the hours he’d be expected to spend in the library, in spite of living with him she’d probably see less of Jon in White Harbour than she did here. “Will you have long before the next semester begins?”

“A couple of weeks”, Myranda shrugged. “Long enough to spend a few days shopping and maxing out my father’s credit cards on _essential items_ for the new school year.”

Sansa guessed that by essential items, Myranda intended to have an entirely new wardrobe. 

“In a way, I wish I wasn’t catching the red eye – I could have organized the most amazing blow out for tonight for all of us. But, skipping out on Albar’s birthday sadly wasn’t an option. I hope my twenty-fifth birthday party will be as good as his is allegedly going to be. Anyways, I have hair and nail appointments tomorrow to get myself ready.”

“I promised my sister a night out for tomorrow and I have always been too much of a lightweight to do two big nights out on consecutive nights. Arya is a tiny little thing, but she can hold more drink than almost anyone I know.” Robb had grumbled to Arya on more than one occasion how unfair that was. 

“I don’t care about that sort of thing.” Myranda waved a dismissive hand. “I am going to drink until I pass out at this party. Gods, but Albar’s friends are dull as dishwater. I seem to have inherited all the fun genes and he got the boring ones. No matter. I shall soldier on. And if I fancy a bit of fun, I’m sure I can find the least boring of the bunch among them.”

Sansa admired Myranda’s ability to say and do whatever she wanted without caring what others thought of her for it. She would never have Myranda’s openness about her sexuality or her sexual forwardness – and Sansa knew that simply wasn’t her – but she admired the way her friend didn’t allow other people to dictate her life. Well, in some regards – clearly Myranda had no say in her attendance at her brother’s birthday party! But perhaps it was an exaggeration to say that Myranda was being _forced_. Sansa knew she’d find fun there somehow. 

Mention of Albar Royce brought Sansa’s thoughts back to her own brother. Only five days lay between her reunion with Robb and Sansa’s insides squirmed to think of it. Her brother had never been this distant before and she was worried about what might have happened to cause it. Jeyne was always so friendly on their video calls. 

Five days. Sansa could get through five days. She’d managed to navigate her way through the six since that call she and Jon had received on their drive to the airport and was more than halfway there. Only five to go. 

“Sansa?” She looked up and immediately guessed Myranda had said her name more than once. 

“Sorry”, she replied. 

“I was just asking if you had any idea what will be served at this buffet lunch. I skipped breakfast in favour of an extra half hour of beauty sleep, so all I’ve had is a croissant I picked up at the bakery across the street.”

“I’ve only last year to go by, but I would say that there is a tendency to over-order from Gage’s”, Sansa told her. “The event tends to last most of the afternoon. There is even a glass of wine or two.”

“This is sounding better and better”, Myranda sighed. “So, what do you have planned between now and going to White Harbour? I never asked after I told you my plans.”

“My brother is back on Wednesday with his girlfriend.” Sansa was pleased her voice had remained steady at that. “Then Jon and I have our charity fun race next Saturday. After that, we’ve less than a week before we go down.”

Their moving date had yet to be fixed, as they were waiting on Robb and Jeyne’s arrival, and Sansa had a feeling that her parents wanted to see how Robb was in person before booking in with the moving firm that would be essential in moving three of them down. Sansa had already, however, made plans to drive down in Jon’s car. Working together over the summer had brought them closer, but Sansa thought that they would’ve been brought closer in any case by living together – and living with Robb and Jeyne.

-

Jon found himself sitting next to Sansa, as he had when she’d joined him to escape Harry Hardyng’s attention, at the speech part of the end of internship event. This would – thankfully, as Jon could feel his belly begin to rumble – be followed by food, a couple of glasses of wine, and casual conversation between the departing interns and the permanent staff. 

Their relationship public, Jon subtly took Sansa’s hand in his between them and threaded their fingers. He saw her smile out of the corner of his eye, though she did not turn away from her father, about to make what Jon understood was an annual speech. 

“I would like to that all of you for your hard work over this summer. I hope you feel that this was worth your time and that you have gained valuable knowledge and experience from the work you have carried out. For those of you engaged in – or considering commencing – legal studies, I hope that you return to your institutions of learning with understanding of the practical application of the theory of law.”

Jon did not expect this speech to be long – Ned Stark was a man of few words. 

“I speak for all the staff here when I say we have enjoyed working with you and hope to do so again at some point in the future if possible. I have heard nothing but praise from your mentors about each and every one of you in this room.”

Jon doubted the absent Harry Hardyng was included in this. 

“The buffet is open to all. I hope you enjoy the food from Gage’s. Once again, I thank you for your hard work.” 

Jon joined in with the applause and stood up. He couldn’t quite believe his summer internship at the firm was over. It seemed to have begun both yesterday and half a year ago. So much had been squeezed into this time – his burgeoning friendship with Sansa and Rhaegar’s death and his relationship with Sansa and meeting Rhaegar’s family for the first time – and yet time had passed so quickly.

He felt that, on a professional level, he had learned a lot. Jon had built a good working relationship with Jeor Mormont and been involved in real cases that had real consequences for the very first time. Although he was looking forward to returning to White Harbour to resume his studies and _living with Sansa_ , Jon also thought on the cases that would be finished without him – the Flowers case, for example. The studying he had done on that case had woken in Jon an interest in civil rights legislation, a subject on which there was a class he could possibly add to his schedule for the upcoming semester.

“Come on. I want to get to the food before the good stuff goes”, Sansa whispered in his ear. She loved buffet food, he had found, and had always had a smile on her face when their shared lunches took them to Gage’s. Jon hoped they would continue to have lunch together in White Harbour.

He followed her over to a large table that had paper plates and napkins, and was laden with all types of meaty, vegetarian and vegan snacks and bites. Next to it was a second, slightly smaller table, with plastic cups and jugs of red and white wine, chilled water, and fruity punch. Jon chuckled under his breath at the sight of Myranda heading straight for the white wine. They may not have got off to the best start, but she had become a friend to Sansa.

Jon, however, went straight for the food and soon had a full plate. He and Sansa found a quiet corner to eat, though they were soon joined by various partners coming over to wish them luck in their future studies. Had he been more cynical or not known these people then he might’ve suspected they were trying to curry Sansa’s favour. In the South, Jon suspected that would have been the case. While he thought his growing relationships with Rhaenys and Gamma Rhae would mean he visited the South more than he had in the past, Jon doubted he would ever want to live there.

Jon munched his way through his plate hungrily and while Ella Whitehill was engaging Sansa in conversation, he was approached by Ned. The rest of the room seemed busy in idle chitchat and consuming the vast quantities of free food and drink, which was rapidly vanishing. He laid down his plate and allowed Ned to take him off to the side – out of earshot of Sansa and Ella. 

“It has been a very strange summer in so many ways”, Ned commented. “And has passed by with more speed than I had anticipated. It is only a fortnight until the four of you go to White Harbour.”

 _The four of you_. He was counting himself and Jeyne alongside Sansa and Robb.

“It has been a great summer”, Jon reflected, thinking of Sansa – and of the professional experience he’d had at the firm.

“When we completed the recruitment process for the internships, I was pleased to find that you were one of those who were successful. Had you asked me for an opportunity to spend time here this summer it would have been granted immediately. I have known you for a long time, Jon, and know your worth and intelligence well enough.”

“Thank you. That – that does mean a lot to me”, he admitted. Jon had always looked up to Ned Stark.

“Should you wish to repeat the experience, I would welcome you doing so at any time – and not just because I wish to avoid yet another summer with one of my children following a partner to an internship for months on end. I have spoken to Jeor and Rodrik and many other partners in the firm. All agree that you will make an excellent lawyer one day, Jon.”

-

Sansa looked down at the dress she was wearing and decided it would do perfectly over her back leggings. She was perfectly attired to go out for drinks with Arya. Not over-dressed at all. Jon had kindly offered to be their DD when they went on their run that afternoon. He would pick them up and then collect them later – once they’d had enough to drink and wanted to return home. 

She wandered through to her sister’s bedroom and after a knock on the door found Arya lying on her front, reading a magazine. Her sister was wearing a pair of black jeans that had faded to grey and an oversized band top Sansa suspected had once belonged to Gendry.

“You ready?” Arya asked. Sansa nodded and called Jon, asking him to pick them up as soon as he was ready. “The boy is whipped.”

Arya rolled her eyes but smiled when Sansa told her Jon would be round in a little over five minutes. “Totally proved that.”

Sansa bit her tongue and didn’t say anything in response about Jon. She simply went back to her room and double checked her appearance. Jon was a sweetheart who wouldn’t judge her on what she was wearing, but that didn’t stop Sansa from checking how she looked. She liked looking her best when she was around him – paradoxically in such great part because Sansa knew she didn’t have to. 

When Jon arrived as promised, Sansa found herself bounding downstairs with a smile upon her face. She’d pulled a small shoulder bag on and sprayed her favourite citrus perfume and couldn’t stop the smile on her face at the anticipation of seeing Jon again. Gods, but it had only been three hours – if that – since they’d last seen each other. 

“Arya! That’s Jon here”, Sansa called. Her father came out of the kitchen, a leftovers sandwich in hand.

“Jon is bringing you both home tonight?” he clarified. Sansa rolled her eyes. Her father’s protectiveness was sweet, though not in any way overbearing. 

“He is”, Sansa confirmed. She hoped Jon would stay over after, though she had not asked him yet. Sansa enjoyed waking next to Jon, their legs and bodies entwined.

“Come on!” Arya breezed past her, pausing only to pat their father’s shoulder lightly. “Hurry up – our lift’s here.” 

-

A couple of hours and several bright and fruity cocktails (Sansa) or whiskey and a variety of mixers (Arya) later, Sansa found herself giggling away with her sister over a memory of Bran and Rickon in a way she would have thought unthinkable even a year ago. 

When Sansa thought back to how she and Arya used to bicker over the slightest thing, she comforted herself not only with the fact that they had made amends – but the knowledge that she appreciated her sister more for knowing how they had once been so distant.

“Will you come home sometimes? For half-term? As Robb and Jon do?” Arya asked. Sansa had never come home for the short breaks during her time at KLU, giving the excuse that the distance was too far. 

“I will. Even if they’ve driven me mad and I could do with a holiday from them.” Sansa took another drink of the latest cocktail. 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem”, Arya replied. She rolled her eyes and then announced her intention to get another round of drinks.

“I haven’t finished this one yet”, Sansa protested quietly when Arya walked off. Knowing there was no refusing her sister, Sansa finished off her cocktail and quickly pulled out her phone. She smiled at the sight of Jon’s name. 

_Quiet night in for two. Hope you’re enjoying your night out!_

It was followed by a picture of Jon and Ghost curled up on his bed. They seemed to be watching something on Jon’s laptop. Sansa’s smile grew wider as she took in Jon’s casual, tousled look and crafted a short, simple response. 

_Having fun at Shadow Tower. Not going to attempt getting to the other end of The Wall. Great picture of my favourite guy. You look hot too, I guess. Enjoy your movie!_

Sansa could feel her nose scrunch up as she sent her message. 

“Yeah, like you’d get sick of them”, said Arya, returning to her last comment as she set down their drinks. “Well, Robb maybe. If he keeps being how he has over the summer. Not Jon, though. I don’t think you and Jon will EVER get sick of each other. You’re like Robb and Jeyne.”

Arya stuck her tongue out at that and Sansa found herself both biting her lip to stop herself from retorting that _Arya and Gendry_ were like that and sensing butterflies in her belly at the thought of herself and Jon being like Robb and Jeyne – Robb and Jeyne, a couple whose engagement she sensed was a matter of _when_ and not _if_.

“Do you mean that?” Sansa asked quietly. Jon had always been another older brother to Arya and so along with Robb (though her brother had yet to say much on her new relationship) Sansa valued her perspective greatly. While their relationship was hers and Jon’s alone, Sansa did wonder what it looked like from the outside. There was still that little part of her mind that mistrusted itself, as much as she hated it.

“Duh. In fact, the two of you might be setting up to be worse than Robb and Jeyne. It is weird though. Jon’s like my brother and you’re my sister.”

“Jon was never a brother to me”, Sansa reminded her, not for the first time. “I think we just had to find our way to each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sansa was puzzled. Although Arya thought of Jon as a brother and found their relationship a bit of a mind fuck at times as a result, Arya had never been vocally opposed to them. In fact, she had even kept her usual teasing to a minimum. Jon was the first boyfriend Sansa had ever had that Arya had not either teased to their face or mocked behind their back. 

“For not seeing how bloody miserable you were in King’s Landing.” Arya seemed so sober now, as Sansa felt herself. “I don’t think I saw it – I don’t think any of us truly did – until this summer, when you’ve been so happy with Jon. I thought you were just serious about your studies or missing your silly Southron friends.”

“Nope. Just miserable. And I didn’t want any of you to know it. I just – this last semester I decided I’d had enough of it all and I was going to do something about it.” The worst of it all, Sansa had told only to Jon. He had listened and held her as she cried. For so many reasons, including their inevitable and unnecessary feelings of guilt, Sansa knew she would never share it with her family. 

“I am sorry”, Arya repeated. 

“You shouldn’t be. I’ve been as bad with you over the years. I think we’re more than even. But, I do think we should have a toast.” Sansa raised her glass in the direction of Arya’s. “To us – Team Stark against the world. And to you and Gendry, and to me and Jon.”

Sansa ignored the face her sister made when she said _to you and Gendry_. Honestly, one day Sansa would force her sister to admit that she and Gendry were in a committed, long-term relationship filled with love and affection. Part of Sansa suspected they would never marry as Arya would deem it too conventional – the rest of her believed Arya would simply turn up for Sunday dinner at the family home one week and simply slip into casual conversation (as if she were informing the family of a new boxset they’d binged or sofa they were thinking of buying) that she and Gendry had got married. 

“Team Stark”, Arya repeated, before downing her drink. “Let’s do shots!”

Sansa groaned, but accepted her sister’s decision with good grace and went to the bar – it was her round, and at the very least if she was going to have shots then she would at least ensure that half of them weren’t too potent.

-

“Play it!” Arya insisted. Sansa giggled, but did her best to hush her younger sister. “Play it! Play it!”

Sansa saw Jon smile, though he said nothing as he filled the car with the dulcet tones of one of Arya’s favourite singers, Red Mycah. Arya sang along with the song, and Sansa laid a hand on Jon’s thigh as he pulled out into the street and headed back to the Stark home. 

“Hey”, Jon grinned. “You both had fun, then?”

“We did”, Sansa confirmed with an exaggerated nod. “We had fun and drinks and fun and shots.”

“I can see that.” There was humour in his voice. Jon had seen both her and Arya in this state before.

“Sing, Jon!” Arya called from the back. She banged the palms of her hands on the top of Jon and Sansa’s seats over and over. “You and Sansa need to sing!”

“I don’t think I have quite the voice for it”, said Jon. 

“I don’t want to sing that song”, Sansa decided. No, if she was going to sing a song then it would be one for her and Jon – and she didn’t want to do that in front of Arya.

“I’m calling Gendry. _He’ll_ sing with me”, Arya insisted. 

Sansa giggled in spite of herself as her sister seemingly called Gendry and insist he sing with her. “Will you stay over tonight?” she asked Jon. 

He hesitated a moment, which made her nervous, and that must have shown in her face because he instantly moved to silence the nerves humming below her surface. “Only to sleep. You’ve been drinking all night, Sans, and I’ve been watching Netflix with Ghost. I’m sober as a judge.”

“You’re training to be a lawyer, not a judge”, Sansa reminded him.

“True. True. But a judge must first be a lawyer.” Sansa could find no argument against that. “I just meant – I’m not taking advantage. I’ll stay over, but we’re just going to get you inside, into a comfy pair of pyjamas, and to sleep – and water. We’re going to get you _both_ some water.”

-

“We’re going to stay over in Moat Cailin tonight. I don’t want to be driving until the middle of the night”, Robb told her. “Half of Westeros is heading home after the summer. This is why I said Wednesday.”

“Drive safely. We can’t wait to see you both”, Sansa replied. Her brother had called her to say that he and Jeyne had closed the apartment they’d rented for the summer and returned their keys to the agent. For a moment, she had thought Robb might be back earlier than intended. 

“We’re – we’re looking forward to seeing you too. I can’t even begin to say how much I am looking forward to reaching the Neck.”

Sansa hoped that they would get an explanation for what had happened that summer. Her brother owed them all an explanation for why he had been so distant. She’d had a thousand different theories and dismissed them all. There was something, though. Of that, Sansa was sure. 


	26. Return of the Prodigal Son

Sansa looked at her watch for what must have been the tenth time in five minutes. By the calculations she and Jon had made, based on the likely level of traffic on the Kingsroad and the distance they had to travel, it couldn’t be long now until Robb’s car turned into the driveway. They had been eating breakfast that morning when her father had received a text from Robb to say he and Jeyne had checked out of their hotel and were about to get back on the road.

“I hope he has a good explanation for acting like a twat this summer”, said Arya. Sansa turned from her spot on the sofa closest to the window to see her sister entering the room with a smoothie in hand. 

“I don’t know that attacking him – verbally or physically – the moment he comes in the door is a good idea”, Jon responded. He squeezed her hand, and Sansa smiled at him. Jon had stayed over the night before and Sansa knew he was as excited and nervous about seeing Robb again as the rest of them. 

“I’m not going to attack him.” Arya rolled her eyes at the insinuation. “But, still, he better be ready to explain why he’s been avoiding us as much as he can.”

Sansa silently agreed with Arya and turned back round to face the entrance to their driveway. She recalled the day Robb and Jeyne had left. It seemed such a long time ago now and Sansa wondered how much that was due to the evolution of her relationship with Jon. In some ways it felt like the two of them had been together for a very long time. 

Jon squeezed her hand again. “I don’t think it’ll be long now.”

“I know.” 

“Watching the driveway will not hurry Robb.” Her father had joined them. He’d taken the rest of the week off work to spend time with the family following Robb’s return. Sansa knew she should be in the kitchen, helping her mother with the celebratory dinner planned to welcome Robb and Jeyne, but she couldn’t seem to leave the room. 

Sansa was just about to suggest they text Jeyne to ask for an update on their progress when her brother’s car turned into the driveway. She leapt up, heart pounding, and ran outside to greet her brother. Gone were all thoughts of how worried Robb had made her and how much she wanted to shake him into telling her what was wrong. All that was left was a desire to hug her brother tightly and relief that he was home.

“Robb!” Sansa knew it was coming out like a squeal worthy of a teenager at her first pop concert, but she didn’t care. Her arms were around her brother and he was _home_. 

“I missed you, too”, Robb told her quietly. “I missed all of you so, so much.”

She stood to the side and allowed the rest of the family to hug Robb – Arya even managing to do so without telling Robb off – and instead looked over to the other side of the car, where Jon was talking to Jeyne and making sure she felt equally welcome. Jon knew Jeyne a lot better than Sansa did, and she trusted both Robb and Jon’s judgement wholly. 

Sansa walked round to the other side of the car and smiled at Jeyne. Jon wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she noted Jeyne’s grin. 

“I told Robb the two of you would end up getting together. Not right at the start of summer, but when both of you were talking about how much time you were spending together. And your _training runs_.”

“I will have you know that we’ve been training hard for this fun race”, Jon responded. “I can’t believe it’s on Saturday. Three days away. That’s insane.”

Sansa was reminded again of how fast this summer had gone by, and of just how much had happened in that time. She turned to see Robb embrace Rickon and accuse him of having grown yet again. Their youngest brother was on track to become the tallest of them. Turning her gaze back, she looked critically at Jeyne and saw bags under her eyes. 

“How was your hotel last night?”

“Not too bad. You get what you pay for, really. But we slept well enough. I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. I would probably still be asleep if Robb hadn’t woken me. Their breakfast was good. I had the most amazing bacon sandwich.”

“Jeyne, how lovely to see you again.” Sansa stepped to the side as her mother came round the car. It did not escape her notice that her mother’s critical gaze took in Jeyne from head to toe and that the scrunching of her eyes and nose indicated she had suspicions of something. A mother’s intuition, she guessed. “Hmmm. Now, let’s get you both inside. You’ll want to call home and let your parents know you’ve arrived.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need to call”, Jeyne murmured.

“I’ll unpack the car”, said Robb, when Jeyne opened the back seat door. 

“I’m just getting my bag”, Jeyne replied. 

“You’ll unpack the car later”, her father announced in a firm voice. “Come inside and you can tell us all about your trip.”

Sansa knew that _all about your trip_ meant the entire summer and not simply the journey from Lannisport. Her father had announced his days off from work casually, as if he had always intended to spend more time at home when Robb returned, but Sansa suspected there was more to it than that. 

Sansa felt Jon’s hand take hers and she leaned against his shoulder. It was if they were all pretending this was normal and yet at the same time waiting on tenterhooks for Robb to reveal everything. She followed her parents and siblings into the kitchen, where everyone gathered around the massive table and her mother set to gathering a plate of cakes and biscuits while her father made coffee. 

“Actually, if it isn’t a bother, could I just have some water or fresh orange juice?” Jeyne asked. “The car was like an oven on wheels – even with the air con on – and I’m feeling a bit dehydrated.”

Her mother immediately set about getting a bottle of water from the fridge for Jeyne and then pouring out a large glass of the fancy fresh orange she kept in the fridge for herself. Other than the sounds of her parents moving about the kitchen, there was silence. Sansa found that particularly ominous, but thought it best not to pass comment. If nothing else, she was being spared teasing from her big brother about her new boyfriend. 

“So, intervention time, I guess”, Robb sighed once they were all seated with coffee and cake. He and Jeyne were sat next to each other, opposite Sansa and Jon, and she could tell they were both nervous. 

“Is an intervention required?” her father asked. 

“No.”

“Then it is not an intervention. But, we would like to hear about your summer. _All_ about your summer.” 

Robb and Jeyne exchanged a look, and then her brother nodded. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Maybe I should”, said Jeyne. She took in a deep breath. 

“Jeyne, if you don’t want to then I can – “

“That’s sweet of you, but no. No, I think I need to do this.” Jeyne’s eyes moved around the table. “My family isn’t like yours. My mother and I – we’ve……our relationship has always been a bit fraught. When it comes down to it, our philosophy on life is just too different, perhaps. I don’t know. That is why I chose White Harbour for post-grad. For all the ructions it caused, I knew I needed to put space between us. Going home for the summer was something I did for my father.”

Sansa smiled at the sight of her mother leaning forward and covering Jeyne’s hand with her own. She couldn’t imagine having a mother who wasn’t as open and warm and loving as Catelyn Stark. 

“It actually wasn’t too bad at first – I thought she was making an effort. The digs at every aspect of my life were rarer than normal, and there were barbeques where she’d extended invites to people I’d been at school with but hadn’t seen in years. They started off quite big and then got smaller and smaller. Until those invited were limited to happy couples and single men. Men she was virtually throwing at me right in front of Robb and couples she’d ask to tell me all about how wonderful Lannisport was for settling down and starting a family. It was humiliating.”

“I don’t seem to be settling down material”, Robb put in. Perhaps he was trying to add some levity to the proceedings. 

“D’uh.” Arya rolled her eyes. “I mean, who would want to be married to you?”

It was a common jest from her sister, but Sansa saw the side glance in each other’s direction from Robb and Jeyne – and took note. Were Robb and Jeyne………had they got _married_?

“What a wonderful sister you are”, said Bran. 

“Applies to you too. Not sure why anyone would want to marry at all, really.” 

“Does Gendry know that?” Bran retorted.

“Leave Gendry out of this, nerd.” 

“Please try to ignore that I come with this lot”, Robb said to Jeyne. He pulled her into her arms in such a way that Sansa felt as if she were intruding on something private. All through the nightmare she’d endured in King’s Landing, it had been with the knowledge that her family – the people who really, truly mattered – would support her come hell and high water. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Jeyne must be feeling.

Sansa felt guilty for every micro-thought she’d had over the summer about Robb pulling away from them. 

“I started making excuses for why we couldn’t come to events and dodging phone calls, ignoring text messages. We had a number of huge arguments – I don’t want to delve too deep into the details of them”, Jeyne sniffed. Robb retrieved tissues from her bag. “But……..they cut very deep – to the extent that I have made it clear I have no intention of returning to Lannisport, either to visit or to live. I will not have my life controlled by someone else. That is not _love_. That is not _support_.”

Jeyne’s tears grew more visible and Sansa saw Arya squirming. Her sister wasn’t really one for displays of emotion at the best of times (at least not while sober) and Sansa suspected she wished she could retract every negative jab she’d made in Jeyne’s direction. 

“Sorry about this. Gods, I get so emotional…….”

“It must have been a difficult summer for both of you”, Sansa heard her father say. 

“It was”, Robb agreed. “And I’m sorry that it meant I wasn’t in touch as often as you wanted or as chatty as you expected. Also, that Farman lot are more interested in the sailing they do in their spare time than the practice of law. Southron legal practice is strange.”

“You and Jeyne are both welcome here whenever you want. I suspect your mother is already planning ahead to having a fuller table at Christmas.”

“Thanks, dad. That means a lot. Uhm, we do have some news on that front. So, Jeyne agreed to move in with me in White Harbour anyway, but we decided to go a bit further on that.” He lifted Jeyne’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You should put it back on now.”

Sansa had a feeling she knew what it was – a suspicion confirmed when Jeyne slipped a sparkling ring on. Her big brother was getting married!

Robb gave them all a sheepish look, but Arya did not recommence her mumblings about marriage. “We almost got married yesterday in Moat Cailin. We talked about it, but we decided to wait until we got here. Even though we had the licence and we were booked in at the court house.”

“I should think so too.” Her mother was indignant at the thought of any of her children getting married without her presence – especially the eldest. Sansa guessed only Arya was likely to get away with such a thing. “Perhaps when you’re home for mid-term break or – would you consider a Christmas wedding? Or, you could wait until next year. We could all help with the organization if you’re too busy with your studies.”

“We can’t wait”, said Jeyne. “Or, that is, we don’t want to. We want – we decided we want to be married before……..before we go back to White Harbour.”

“We decided we wanted to do it before the baby is born”, said Robb.

Sansa couldn’t recall the last time silence had reigned at the Stark kitchen table. Baby? Her big brother was going to be a husband _and_ a father? She was going to be an aunt! Sansa could feel Jon moving next to her, then pulling her in closer. 

“Congratulations. On both”, said Jon. Sansa loved him for being so positive. While she knew none of them would be anything but that, she knew Robb needed to hear it.

Arya scoffed. “Like you’re not trying to get on his good side so he forgets that you’re now – “

“I don’t think we should be finishing that sentence”, said Sansa. “I can’t wait to be an aunt!”

-

“Thanks for saying something positive before any of them could jump on me for dropping that bombshell on them”, Robb told him. Jon snorted in response. 

“I wasn’t about to leave you out for the wolves. Though, Arya’s theory does deserve _some_ traction, I guess.” 

They were outside in the back garden, taking a moment to just breathe. After Robb had dropped his bombshell, Catelyn had immediately taken over like the mother hen she was. Rickon had been sent to help Robb unpack the car, Jeyne nudged into going for a lie down, Bran and Arya sent to the grocery store for further provisions and Sansa pulled into helping her mother in the kitchen. Ned had said he had a few calls to make and disappeared to the study.

“I’m going to speak to my dad, but they’ll keep covering my share of rent for the apartment with Sansa living there – and Jeyne and I will find our own place. We’ve already been looking online. There were a couple of places we hoped to take a look at when we were up for Sam and Gilly’s party, but obviously things didn’t work out.”

Jon looked at Robb. “What happened with the car? Truly?”

“Truly? The police have said they’ll likely never find who did it. There’s no proof but Jeyne’s mother didn’t want us going away that weekend – that’s what one of the arguments was about; said she was selfish for wanting to go visit her friends instead of spending time with her family. Her uncle was there too when they were arguing – her mother’s brother. I never liked the man. There’s something….. _off_ …..about him. He said something about making sure we didn’t go. Like I say, there’s no proof, but…….”

“But you think one of them did it.”

Robb nodded. “They knew our plans. They knew Jeyne is a nightmare for getting to the airport on time. They knew my contacting my insurer was something that couldn’t wait for us to get back and that the insurer would insist we contact the police or they wouldn’t cover the cost.” That last part was simply common sense, but Jon didn’t point that out.

“Been a strange summer. Who would’ve thought all those weeks ago when we were at _The Wolf’s Den_ that last night out before I came home for summer that it would’ve ended up with you and Jeyne about to get married and with a baby on the way…….and Sansa and me together.”

“ _That_ is a subject we’re going to get to, by the way. Don’t think because I’ve got a lot going on at the moment that you’ve escaped interrogation.” Jon’s nerves at that seemed to be showing, because Robb laughed. “Don’t worry, it won’t be much of an interrogation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sansa this happy.”

“Thank you.”

“The wedding won’t be a big one, but…….I’ll still be in the market for a best man.”

“I’ll think about it”, Jon joked. “Nah, you didn’t need to ask. Not really.”

“I asked her before we found out about the baby. I didn’t have a ring then. I just – I just asked and she said yes, and I thought I’d look for a ring when we got back here. I did buy the ring after we found out about the baby. Sort of.” Robb paused. “But – can I tell you something and you won’t tell another soul? Not even Sansa?”

Jon hesitated. “You can tell me anything in confidence. Just – don’t ever make it a choice between you and Sansa, alright?”

Jon didn’t think Robb would, but still. 

Robb smiled. “You’ve just proved yourself worthy of my sister. Not that I ever thought you weren’t. Anyways, that weekend we went to Kayce……..”

“Is that when you found out?” Jon was mentally running through his video and phone calls and text conversations with Robb to try and identify a time when he could or should have picked up on this.

“No. No, we knew before that. We went to Kayce because it isn’t in Lannisport and there’s a clinic there for women……..” Jon could tell where Robb was going with this. He wondered if his mother’s mind had ever gone there when she’d found out she was pregnant with Rhaegar’s child at sixteen.

“But, we couldn’t do it. We were sat out in the car park and we couldn’t get up and go in. So, we left and we went ring shopping instead.”

“I won’t tell anyone”, Jon promised. 

“I know I fucked up in a thousand different ways this summer, but not going into that clinic wasn’t one of them. We just needed to start thinking with our hearts instead of our heads.”

“You’re going to make a great dad, Robb.”

“Thank you. And on the subject of fatherhood, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you went through all that stuff with Rhaegar dying. I can’t imagine finding out from a TV news report that something like that had happened to my father.”

“It was a shitty time”, Jon admitted. “But, Sansa helped me through it.”

Someday, when they were back in White Harbour and had more time to breathe, Jon would tell Robb more about what had happened in his absence. For now, Robb had enough to fill his mind.

“Robb.” They turned round to see Ned coming towards them. Jon went to go back inside, but Ned stopped him. “I’ve a feeling this concerns you too, Jon. I called in a favour with Luwin. He’s certified as an officiant and he has a gap in his schedule on Friday afternoon.”

“He can marry us in two days? Where?”

“Anywhere. We’d place an order at Gage’s and a deli because your mother is NOT spending the next two days in the kitchen, but if you wanted then we could have the ceremony here.”

Jon smiled. He couldn’t imagine anything more Stark-like than getting married in the large, perfectly landscaped garden at the back of the Stark property. Looking around, he could well imagine it being decorated by Sansa and Jon found it hard not to let his thoughts run away with themselves. 

“I’ll ask Jeyne. Thank you.” Jon couldn’t help feel a punch to his gut when he saw Robb and Ned embrace. He’d never have that. Not as a son with his father. “I didn’t want any of you to worry about me and Jeyne. Maybe we should’ve just left earlier but work……”

“You were right to stick to your contract of employment but don’t ever think there’s something you cannot share with your mother or myself – or anyone. There will always be someone you can talk to.”

-

“We need fairy lights. Lots of them”, said Sansa. She seemed keen to get everything right and her hair kept coming out of the loose up-do she had it in. Jon found it very cute. “And streamers and party poppers for the tables and do you think a banner? You don’t normally see them at weddings.”

Jon smiled at her and stopped in front of a stand with packets of confetti. “I’m sure Robb and Jeyne will love whatever you choose. I don’t think they’re banner people – and I think they’re more for an engagement party.”

When Jeyne had awoken from her nap and agreed to the Friday wedding, Catelyn had written a list of things that needed to be done and secured Robb and Jeyne’s agreement. He and Sansa had been entrusted with decorating the garden for the wedding. Jon thought it more likely that Catelyn had been trying to include him, as part of the wedding party, and he was more of Sansa’s assistant than anything else.

“We do need a lot of fairy lights, though”, said Sansa. “I thought we could place them around the trees and the decking area. Thank the gods my parents decided to buy new garden furniture at the start of summer!”

“Yeah, I doubt they thought at the time it would be used for this.”

“Been a strange summer”, Sansa murmured. She turned to him and smiled. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’m not sure this is how Jeyne pictured her wedding when she was younger.”

“No. At the very least I guess she pictured her family there. As someone who has experience of family issues, I can sympathize.” At the very least, he’d always had his mother – Rhaenys and Gamma Rhae had been such a huge bonus, though. It wasn’t long until his grandmother’s birthday. Sansa had helped him pick out a pretty brooch at the antique market in White Harbour as they headed home after Sam and Gilly’s engagement party.

“We’ll need to make it as amazing for her as possible.” Catelyn had the same attitude, insisting on taking Jeyne shopping for a new dress to wear. Jeyne’s eyes had got all misty then, and she’d murmured that a marriage was more important than a wedding.

“What do you think of these?” Sansa held up a packet of white and silver confetti for his inspection. 

“Looks good. You mentioned fairy lights?”

“They’re over there”, said Sansa, pointing to the other side of the store. Jon followed her over to packs of lights in red and blue and green and pink. “Silver. Silver and white. To go with the confetti and stand out against the trees and decking.”

It would not be a large wedding – eleven guests plus the officiant (and a dog, Ghost, as Robb had insisted Jon bring his mother and her plus one to see him act as best man) – but it was one that Jon could tell would be put together with love. 

-

“This is the strangest bachelor party I’ve ever been to”, Rickon commented while Ned went to order their drinks and food.

“Dude, it’s the only bachelor party you’ve ever been to”, Robb reminded him. 

They were at _The Three Dogs_ for dinner the night before Robb and Jeyne’s wedding. Jeyne was back at the house, having a night of Braavosi take-out and non-alcoholic wine with Catelyn, Sansa and Arya (though Jon suspected they wouldn’t all be having the non-alcoholic wine). Sansa had kindly invited his mother, but her shift wasn’t due to end until late.

“In twenty years, it’ll probably still be the strangest”, Rickon replied. 

“It isn’t how I always pictured it either, but it’s what’s happening”, Robb shrugged. 

“We’ll have a good meal and a few drinks and chill out a little”, said Jon. He bent down and patted Ghost. Summer was coming to an end and when Robb had mooted the idea of dinner, Jon had suggested _The Three Dogs_. They could sit outside – something that the Northern autumn would make impossible in just a few weeks – and have a few drinks, though it wouldn’t matter that Bran and Rickon were underage and couldn’t drink. 

“Theon will never let it go that this was my bachelor party”, sighed Robb. 

“Theon would never let it go if your bachelor party was anything less than a wild night out at strip club that none of us would be able to remember, because we’d all be blind drunk.” Jon rolled his eyes. He could see, however, that as determined as Robb was to marry Jeyne instantly, he was a tad downcast that their friends would not be there with them. Modern technology, however……

“Here we are”, Ned announced. He placed a tray down on the large table they’d bagged looking out onto the field next to the pub. “Beer for Robb, Jon and Gendry. Red wine is mine. Bran, there’s your fresh orange and lemonade, and Rickon, I’ve got your strange concoction of sodas. The bartender turned up his nose, but he made it all the same. And, uh…..”

“I’ll take that”, Jon grinned. He picked up the dog bowl filled with water and placed it on the ground next to him. “There, boy.”

“A toast”, said Ned. “To Robb and Jeyne.”

“Robb and Jeyne”, they all repeated. 

“It is soooooo good to be back home”, sighed Robb after a drink of the Northern ale he had chosen. “The beer they have in the Westerlands is like swill compared to this. Tormund would have had words with each and every barman in Lannisport.”

“Tormund considers even _White Harbour_ to be in the South”, Jon reminded him. He turned to Bran. “You’d like Tormund. He’s training to be an ethical hacker. Did his under-grad in Computer Science and is now studying for a post-grad in Network Security.”

“That sounds really cool”, Bran replied. “I am thinking about something in Computer Studies. But, then, I really like the idea of Northern Mythology at Moat Cailin or Astronomy in Oldtown. I’ve signed up for a bunch of open days.”

Jon smiled. He was quite sure Bran would qualify to study whatever he wanted wherever he wanted. 

“Don’t talk about school stuff”, Rickon grumbled. “It’s bad enough we’re going back on Monday.”

“You should appreciate your school days, Rickon. Further education and the daily grind of the workplace are far more taxing – never again will you have so much free time or holidays as long as this. Even teachers are not on holiday as long as their students.”

“That’s true”, said Jon, seeing Rickon was about to contradict his father. “Sam’s starting teaching on Monday, but he’s been at the school for weeks getting ready.”

Rickon rolled his eyes and said nothing, but instead took a long pull on the concoction he’d asked for. Jon thought back to when he’d been Rickon’s age and shuddered. While Robb had been confident and articulate around everyone, Jon had required the presence of those he was comfortable with for that. 

“Arya showed me some of the apartments you’ve been looking at in White Harbour”, Gendry said to Robb, changing the subject. “Do you have a favourite?”

“Not really. To be honest, as long as we can find something both affordable and close to campus then I don’t think we can be too choosy.” Jon would not be surprised if Robb and Jeyne did end up staying with him and Sansa – even if it was short-term. “We might go down for the day next week and look at a few places.”

Jon’s phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket, hoping it would be a message from Sansa. He wasn’t staying over at the Stark house tonight nor was Sansa staying with him. In an attempt to preserve a modicum of tradition, Robb would be staying over with Jon and Bran, Rickon and Ned were due to come over in the morning to get ready at Jon’s. Jeyne had protested at first, arguing that she was effectively pushing Robb out of his own home, but Catelyn had insisted that her marriage to Robb meant Jeyne was family too. Ergo, this was her home as much as his.

Jeyne had cried at that, but Robb had admitted she was crying at a lot of things lately. 

Jon entered his pass code and saw the message was not from Sansa, but Rhae. It was a picture of Rhae and Gamma Rhae out for cocktails, glasses raised. _Girls Night Out_ , Jon read from underneath the picture. He wondered if Rhae’s mother, Elia, was the person taking the picture. Jon and Rhae had talked about her a little since their first meeting and Rhae had assured him that Elia saw Jon as guilty of nothing. The blame was all Rhaegar’s.

“You’re smiling. That from Sansa?” Robb asked. 

“Uh, no. Rhae. My half – my sister.” Rhae had insisted on calling him brother and it had taken a while, but Jon now felt comfortable calling her sister. He wasn’t used to siblings and this was more than a little strange for him. He passed his phone to Robb. “That’s my grandmother with her.”

“It’s a good picture”, said Robb. He dropped his voice. “You should tell me about her later……about how it’s been trying to work things out. I know I wasn’t around this summer, but I want to know what I missed.”

“Okay”, Jon agreed. His stomach growled and he hoped the cheeseburger he’d ordered wouldn’t take too long.

-

Sansa set down a few bowls with spicy chips and sausage rolls and mozzarella bites next to the others Arya had placed on the table in the middle of the family room.

“When I envisioned this moment, I never pictured myself as pregnant and having to drink non-alcoholic fizzy wine”, said Jeyne, before the bubbles made their way back up and she belched. “Ooops. Sorry, excuse me.”

“You’re excused”, Sansa laughed. Her mother put an arm around Jeyne. 

“You are about to discover that pregnancy will mean you’re excused for just about anything. When I was expecting Robb, Ned treated me as if I were made of glass. True, that’d long since disappeared by the time Rickon came along, but he still fussed over me whenever he could.” She got this misty eyed look that had Arya miming vomiting.

“TMI, thanks.” Sansa would once have protested that their parents’ marriage was one to aspire to, but now she knew that it was simply a case of what Arya was comfortable with. Understanding her sister better had dramatically reduced their arguments. Her mother persisted, ignoring Arya.

“No running after Robb – he is perfectly capable of doing most things himself and he can learn the rest. Once you’ve got a new baby on your hands, you’ll be grateful for his well-intentioned help. Even if he does wash whites with colours once a month.”

Sansa recalled one weekend when her grandfather had been ill. Her mother had gone to the Riverlands for a few days to look after him when he came out of hospital as Uncle Edmure was in Essos for work and her father had been in charge of them all. She’d been old enough to help her father around the house, but he’d asked her to start dinner while he dealt with the laundry. None of the boys had been happy with the change in colour of their white clothes. 

She wondered what had happened to the t-shirts that had turned pink. 

Sansa lifted her glass. “We need a toast. To you and Robb. Jeyne and Robb.”

“Jeyne and Robb”, her mother and sister echoed. 

“This does have advantages”, Sansa pointed out, thinking of something Jon had said to her earlier that day. “Theon won’t be within a county mile of Robb’s bachelor party.”

Jeyne laughed. “Surely as best man, it would’ve been Jon’s job to organize it.”

“You’d think, but Theon has a way of taking things over.”

With such a small guest list – only around a dozen people – Sansa knew Robb and Jeyne could easily have dispensed with some of the formalities of a wedding, but Jon had been touched that Robb still insisted on him being best man and Sansa had found herself a little tearful when Jeyne had approached her after the welcome home dinner and asked if she might stand in as a bridesmaid. 

It had been nothing, however, to how tearful Jeyne had been when her father asked if Jeyne would like him to walk her down the aisle. 

Sansa hadn’t wanted to let the side down, and had gone shopping with Jon to purchase a new dress for the occasion. He hadn’t minded _too_ much and seemed in any case to enjoy the lunch they had at Gage’s once their purchases were complete. 

Jon had also whispered that he looked forward to removing the dress.

Sansa sipped on her wine and thought of Jon. Could……this be them, someday? Preparing for their own wedding. It hadn’t been long – half a summer, really – but they would be living together in White Harbour and Sansa felt surer about Jon than she ever had about any boy or man she’d developed feelings for or been in a relationship with. Jon was different. Jon was special. 

“I’ll speak to my doctor and get a recommendation for someone in White Harbour”, her mother told Jeyne. 

“Thank you. We’ll need to get signed up with someone. I only ever used the health centre on campus before but a baby definitely falls outside their remit.” Sansa smiled as Jeyne rubbed her belly protectively. She didn’t think Jeyne was showing _yet_ , but she soon would be. Moving back to the North had given her so much already and now it would give her the opportunity to be close at hand when her first niece or nephew was born. 

“There’s so much we need to get organised with”, Jeyne added. 

“You’ll get there”, her mother replied. “Braavos wasn’t built in a day.”

“I hate that saying. We’re from the _North_. Shouldn’t it be White Harbour wasn’t built in a day? Or Moat Cailin?” said Arya.

-

“There”, said Sansa. She stood back, took in her sister-in-law to be, and smiled. She’d weaved some Northern blue roses into the up-do they’d decided on for Jeyne’s hair. Sansa had got ready herself first and then come through to help Jeyne while her mother and sister made sure everything was organized downstairs. Gendry had also come over a little early to help and Sansa was sure Arya was bossing him around. 

“Sansa, it looks amazing. Thank you so, so much.”

“No tears!” Sansa handed Jeyne a tissue. “We don’t want to mess up your make-up, do we?”

Jeyne chuckled and stood. “I guess not. Thank goodness I’m still not really showing yet – and I managed to find a dress that flowed like this. I think of myself as being very modern, but even I judge myself for quickly marrying before I give birth.”

“Maybe you’re just more of a traditionalist than you thought you were?” Sansa suggested. “And I really like that dress.”

Jeyne and her mother had managed to find (miraculously on sale) a cream summer dress that grazed her ankles and a beautiful pair of creamy white pumps. Her mother had also loaned Jeyne a lace shawl to cover her sun-kissed shoulders. The bouquet was a gift from Lyanna, roses from her garden. She’d dropped them off that morning while walking Ghost. 

“I like yours. I’m sure Jon will too.” Sansa hadn’t wanted to be too over-zealous with her choice. It was a small wedding, after all. In the end, she’d chosen a knee-length lemon sundress with golden stitching around the edges. It was a pretty dress and Sansa knew she would wear it again. 

“He did say that he wasn’t averse to it”, Sansa replied, thinking again of Jon saying how much he was looking forward to removing it. Jon had insisted he would stay over after the wedding rather than returning home with his mother. 

“I know that Jon has been through hell this summer – and both Robb and I feel awful that we couldn’t be there for him – but I see him looking at you and all I see is one person completely wrapped up in another. I’ve seen him around you and I don’t ever remember Jon smiling as much as he has over the last couple of days.”

“Before this summer I never thought of him as anything more than Robb’s friend, for all that I’ve known him near on twenty years”, Sansa admitted. “And he’s been there for me this summer. He came to White Harbour with me. He made me laugh and smile too.”

“I know when I was here before that I said I wanted to get to know you and that hasn’t changed. When we go back to White Harbour, the two of us – and Gilly, if we can persuade her – need to spend some good quality girl time together.”

“I’d like that”, Sansa agreed. “I wasn’t happy in King’s Landing. To be honest, I was lonely and miserable and homesick. But, I don’t think I ever imagined just how much things would change for me by transferring to WHU.”

She had people to run to now as well as people to escape. 

Sansa’s phone pinged and she saw the message was from Jon. She scanned through it and handed her phone to Jeyne. “That’s them here. Time to get married.”

-

Jon had been relieved when Ned answered in the affirmative to the question of whether he had a _Zoom_ account. Rickon sat off to the side, his iPad scanning from the tree Jon and Sansa had decorated with flashing fairy lights the previous afternoon to the back door of the house that Jeyne was due to come through in the next few moments. 

It had been clear to him that while Robb was committed to this small wedding – and to marrying before their return to White Harbour – he couldn’t completely hide his disappointment that so many of their friends wouldn’t be there to join them. And so, Jon had put into place a plan that involved essentially live-streaming the wedding so their friends could at least see Robb marry Jeyne, even if they couldn’t be there in person. 

Sam had invited everyone round to the apartment he shared with Gilly, finishing early on the last weekday before his new job officially began, Robb’s Uncle Benjen was logged in from his military base, and Theon was – thankfully on mute – tuning in from Pyke. Catelyn’s brother, Edmure, was connecting from his desk at work alongside his boss and uncle, Brynden, and his wife Roslin from their home at Riverrun. 

The wedding march began playing on Arya’s phone and Jon turned to see Jeyne walk out of the house and into the late afternoon sunshine. He knew that tradition was everyone looked at the bride. Jon, however, took a cursory glance at Jeyne and then spent the rest of their walk to the tree staring unabashedly at Sansa. She was beautiful. Jon smiled at her and caught her eye. It might be Robb’s wedding day, but Jon couldn’t fathom anyone being as enchanted by another person as he was by Sansa. 

When they reached Jon and Robb – and Luwin, the officiant – Jeyne handed her bouquet to Sansa and took Robb’s hand. 

“Welcome to you all. Let us begin.” Luwin turned to Jeyne. “Who comes here on this day, to seek blessings?”

“Jeyne Westerling”, said Jeyne. 

“Robb Stark.”

“Who gives this woman to be married?”

“I give myself.” Jon smiled. He knew that Ned had offered to stand in for Jeyne’s father. While clearly moved, she said that she would give herself away – so that everyone would know she did this of her own volition. Jon figured Mrs. Westerling could stick _that_ in her pipe and smoke it.

“Do you take this man?” Luwin asked Jeyne.

“I take this man.”

“Do you take this woman?”

“I take this woman”, Robb confirmed. The Robb standing next to him today seemed so mature. More so than Jon could ever remember him being. In moments he would be a husband and in a few short months a father. Jeyne had irreversibly changed his life. 

Jon felt that Sansa had done the same to his. 

“By the power invested in me by the North, I now declare that you are now husband and wife.”

Jon chuckled at the loud cheers coming from Rickon when Robb leaned in to kiss Jeyne and seal their union. He glanced at Sansa and saw the happiness in her face. _I love you_ , he mouthed at her. Sansa nodded. _Me too_ , she replied. 

-

Arya sat down next to her while Jon and Gendry helped move the chairs over to the two tables that had been set up for food. Her father had placed a substantial order at Gage’s, and they’d delivered the cartons of food a few moments ago. Sansa was particularly looking forward to the Monkfish. 

“I would say this is the oddest wedding I’ve ever been to, but the only other one I can actually remember is Uncle Edmure and Aunt Roslin’s”, said Arya. “But that was odd too – though in a completely different way.”

Aunt Roslin came from a large family full of half-brothers, half-sisters and cousins – not to mention uncles, aunts and so on. Her father had married several times and each wife had given him more children than the last, it seemed. The wedding had been massive even with them limiting the guest list to only family. 

“It’s the first one I’ve been to that’s been streamed online”, said Sansa, who could remember a few more weddings than Arya. 

“What you did for Jon was really cool.” Sansa smiled.

“Thanks.” She had given Rickon the details necessary for Rhaenys and Rhaella to watch the ceremony and see Jon perform his duties as best man. “Lyanna’s here for Jon. I thought it would be cool if they could see it too.”

“So when am I attending _your_ wedding.”

Sansa almost choked. “Jon and I have only – “

“Yeah, but he looks at you the same way Robb looks at Jeyne.” Sansa didn’t know what to say to that. As a young girl, she had dreamed of her wedding day. Of being married in a beautiful ivory gown made of pure silk and having a lavish dinner for hundreds of people. But if this wedding had echoed anything, it was the sentiment that the person was more important than the party. 

“I like your dress”, Sansa commented, deciding a change of subject was all to the good. Her sister wore a short dress that Aunt Lysa would have baulked at. Lysa. When Jon had contacted her about the wedding, she had been indignant and refused to have anything to do with it. 

“I got it for the end of school party at Hot Pie’s.”

“How did you get our mother to permit you to wear Converse with it to Robb’s wedding?”

“I reminded her that we would be spending the day on grass and then I asked if she had any ideas for names for her first grandchild. She got all misty-eyed at that.” Sansa chuckled. 

“Good call.”

“I thought so. I better move.” Her sister had ostensibly sitting in Jon’s seat and now the two tables were set up, they were ready to go. The smaller one was for Robb and Jeyne, as the newly-married couple, and Jon and Sansa, as their attendants. The remainder of the guests were at the larger table. 

Arya headed off to the seat Gendry had kept for her and once they were all in place, Jon rose to speak. 

“So, I thought I might get away with skipping the best man speech since it is a small wedding, but Robb assured me last night that I wasn’t getting off easily.” Sansa knew many would wonder in the years ahead why a man as averse to speaking in public as Jon had gone down his chosen career path. 

“In any case, I will not keep this long. Aside from anything else, I’m hungry. Before I forget, I wanted to thank Rickon for arranging the technicalities of the video call that’s letting so many people join us remotely. Mostly, I wanted to give a toast. I remember going along to a Hallowe’en party with Robb last year. Neither of us could really be bothered, but we still went, and while we were there I was abandoned to Tormund’s drunken ramblings while Robb spent the night talking to a girl I didn’t recognize. Since then, I have found this moment increasingly inevitable. I wish you both all the happiness you deserve and more. To Robb and Jeyne!”

“To Robb and Jeyne”, Sansa repeated, raising her glass along with everyone else. When Jon sat down again, she clasped his hand in hers. Sansa felt her smile grow wider and wider. 


	27. Summer's End

“Almost there”, Sansa spluttered, panting heavily. She could see the 500m to go marker and felt instant relief. 

“Yeah”, Jon replied. 

They had decided to stick together throughout the fun race – they had, after all, trained together and it seemed to make sense to continue running alongside each other for the duration. The weather had broken overnight – mercifully after everything had been cleared away following Robb’s wedding ceremony and reception – and it had cleared the air to give them cooler conditions to run in. 

Sansa had quickly identified which runners were (like she and Jon) sticking with their running buddies, which simply wanted to support a good cause and have fun, and which were actively looking to either place in their running category or improve upon their best times. Sansa was proud that she had (almost) achieved the goal she had set herself silently at the start, while they waited for the whistle to blow – to complete the race without having to stop to walk or catch her breath. 

She was almost there. 

Sansa reached the 500m to go marker and grinned at Jon. At least, she hoped it was a grin. Given how hard she was breathing at the moment, Sansa hoped it didn’t appear a grimace. 

Her heart thumped in her chest and her legs had been numb for a kilometre or so, but Sansa found it in her to surge forward and push again and again and again. When she crossed the finishing line and bent over, grabbing her knees, she felt a huge sense of _achievement_. This had started off as a way of keeping fit over the summer and Sansa could never have foreseen how much things could have changed between the first session she and Jon had and today.

“Thank you”, Sansa panted as a volunteer handed her a bottle of water. She took a large gulp and then rested her head on Jon’s shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“That depends – am I meant to be able to feel my legs?”

“Generally, yes. Right now, probably not so much.”

“Then yes, I am okay. Mostly. You?”

“I’m good”, Jon grinned. He ran his hand up and down Sansa’s back. Once, she would have backed away and protested that she was sweaty and icky. Now, she knew that didn’t bother Jon. He loved and accepted her for the person she was. “Look, there’s your parents!”

Sansa followed Jon’s line of sight and saw her parents waving wildly. They’d passed Lyanna and Ghost just over halfway around the course, and Arya and Gendry had dragged Bran and Rickon along to the starting line. Robb and Jeyne were, most likely, still at the _Wintertown Grand_. It was the fanciest hotel in town and her parents had paid for a night in the honeymoon suite for her brother and new sister-in-law. Sansa and Jon had plans to meet them later (though not at the _Grand_ ) for dinner.

“Well done, sweetheart!” Sansa felt her mother envelop her tightly and smiled, filling even more with happiness. She allowed her mind to flash back momentarily to that train journey she’d taken weeks and weeks ago. The Sansa who had travelled from King’s Landing to Wintertown that day would never have been able to fathom how happy she could become in such a short period of time.

“Thanks.” Sansa was still a little breathless. Even with all the training she and Jon had put in, it had still been hard work. 

“Well done both of you”, her father added. He clapped Jon on the back and then hugged Sansa when she was free of her mother’s embrace. “All those training sessions seem to have been worth it. Do you think you’ll keep up with the running in White Harbour?”

Sansa exchanged a look with Jon. They had discussed it vaguely. 

“Yes, but I’m not sure how competitively we’ll go about it”, he replied. “We’ve both got a pretty heavy workload next semester.”

Sansa had been preparing for it – she’d started working through some of the assigned reading and looking through the vocabulary books she’d purchased for the Old Tongue class she would need to take. She thought of lazy Sundays, however, when she and Jon might lie in bed and exchange sweet words in a long-forgotten language and then go for a light jog. Then back to their apartment and shower and bed……

She was looking forward to next semester and leaving her family would not be so hard this time. Robb was coming with her, and she’d be able to come home for half-term. 

-

“That’s fantastic”, Jon grinned as he wrapped his arms around his mother. This was definite progress from how things had been a few weeks ago. “But are you sure you want to stay in a hotel? There’s a third bedroom in the apartment.”

“Ghost and I will be fine in the pet-friendly hotel I’ve found”, she replied. Hearing his name, the pup jumped up on the sofa in between them. His mother pulled out her phone, clicked into something and then handed it to him. 

Jon scrolled through the hotel’s website and suppressed the grin he felt rising. This hotel quite clearly catered equally for humans and their animal friends. He wondered if she’d seen it advertised at the place she secretly took Ghost to for grooming. 

“It looks great”, he told her. “Where did you find it?”

“There was an advert in the _Three Dogs_ bathroom. I saw it when we went there with Sansa the other week. I went online and checked out some reviews. I might not be as tech savvy as you and your friends, but even I know how to navigate Trip Advisor.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “You say things like that as if you’re ancient or something and you’re not.”

“You’re very sweet, Jon. I am forty now. Most people your age think this makes me old as the hills.”

“I’m not most people. And you know it.”

“Yeah, I do. Hopefully I won’t look out of place at this folk festival in Karhold. I’m quite looking forward to it, to be honest. There’s been an improvement in facilities since that one I took you to when you were little, over near Torrhen’s Square. There might even by toilets that are useable on day three.” Jon laughed. He could vaguely recall the festival she mentioned. It was the summer before he had started school and he recalled a small and crooked tent that hadn’t survived long past that trip. 

“That was a good trip.” They’d had junk food for the entire trip and he’d stayed up late every night. When they returned home, Jon had slept for sixteen hours straight. It was strange to think back on the holidays of his childhood. “What bands are playing at the festival?”

“ _Alys and the Thenns_ are headlining. They’ve also got _Morna White Mask_ , _Soren Shieldbreaker_ and _Devyn Sealskinner_. There’s a new duo, _Borroq and Varamyr_ , who have a lot of animal related songs. A bit out there, but I’ll reserve judgement until I’ve seen them.”

His mother had an incredibly eclectic taste in music. This was a folk festival, but he knew she also listened to blues and jazz and acoustic rock. That said, he knew _Alys and the Thenns_ were one of her favourite bands of recent years. Jon had taken her to one of their Wintertown gigs for her birthday his final year at Wintertown High. 

Jon’s phone pinged, and he immediately went to it, wondering if it was Sansa letting him know about the cab she or Robb was apparently going to order for their dinner out. Instead, however, it was a message from his grandmother, asking how the fun race had gone. 

“Sansa?” his mother asked.

“Uh, no. Gamma Rhae.” It had only been a few weeks, and Jon was still figuring out balancing getting to know his grandmother and half-sister with ensuring his mother knew that they were still a team. 

His mother smiled. “She wanting to know how you got on?”

“Yeah.”

“She sounds like a nice lady. Please don’t ever filter anything to do with her or anyone else you talk to from Rhaegar’s family.” His mother fidgeted. “I don’t want you to think it’s a choice, Jon. You don’t ever have to choose.”

“I know. I just – “ Jon sighed and grabbed her hand. “I don’t want you to think because they’re shiny and new that I don’t need you around anymore or that you’re less important because I have more than one relative in my life. Does that make sense?”

“It does. With you off out, I think I might get a pizza for dinner. Or……I suppose I could go to _The Three Dogs_. I could take Ghost and a book.”

“You really like that place, don’t you?”

“It has alcohol and dogs. I never realised how much I wanted one until we adopted Ghost. I mean, I had this vague idea that in the future, when I retired and was far, far, more ancient than I am now, that I would get a dog then.”

Jon scratched Ghost behind the ears and he wagged his tail happily. The little mutt had worked his way into their lies and hearts and never failed to bring a smile to his face.

-

“Sans? You about ready?” Robb called as he knocked on her bedroom door.

“Two minutes!” She was almost finished braiding her hair. She’d considered leaving it loose and long down her back. Jon liked it that way and, more importantly, she did too, but Sansa knew if she ordered something with a sauce then her hair would no doubt end up in it. Sometimes, Sansa wondered whether or not she should cut it off as Arya had. It would be more manageable and sensible. 

Sansa tied her braid at the end, permitted it to remain lying as it did on her shoulder, and then picked up her shoulder bag and sunglasses, along with the tote bag with what she needed for an overnight stay at Jon’s. The late afternoon sun was beaming into her bedroom window, low in the sky, and the glasses set off her outfit just so. Sansa had chosen a black sundress (again, with the possibility of a dish with sauce on her mind) with matching cardigan and sandals. 

She made her way downstairs to find Robb and Jeyne on the sofa. It was strange to her to think that a mere week ago, Sansa had been full of worry about Robb and what had happened over his summer, and now he was sat in front of her both a husband and father-to-be. So much was changing in a short period of time – her relationship with Jon this summer had taught her this was not a bad thing.

“I love your dress”, she said to Jeyne. Her new sister-in-law wore a light blue dress that was generous to her growing belly. Jeyne was just into her second trimester and had confessed to Sansa that she could feel her clothes start to become more restrictive. 

“This is one of my favourites. I figured I should wear it while I still can.”

“You’ll be able to wear it again next summer”, Sansa assured her. “When is the cab due?”

“Any time now. That’s why I was making sure you were ready”, Robb replied. “You can text Jon when we get in it, let him know we’re on our way.”

Sansa smiled at that. She could never recall an instance before when she would be the one of all of them to text Jon. Again, it spoke to the changes of late that Robb automatically assumed she would be the one to contact Jon. 

“There it is”, Sansa murmured, pointing out the window at the sight of an unfamiliar car entering the driveway. She called through to her parents, who were eating with Bran and Rickon, telling them that they were leaving, and led Robb and Jeyne out of the house. Her phone was out the moment they were in the cab and she tuned out Robb and Jeyne’s small talk with the driver while sending a message to Jon. 

_That’s us on our way. See you in a few minutes. Looking forward to seeing you again. X_

What Sansa did not dare mention, not with Robb wedged in next to her in the back seat, was how much she was looking forward to the end of the night. With all the organizing for Robb and Jeyne’s wedding, their alone time together had been limited of late. Even the night before they hadn’t been able to do _too_ much as they’d had the morning fun race to think of.

Jon had still helped her take off her bridesmaid dress though. Sansa squirmed in her seat at the memory of him taking off her panties with his teeth. And at the memory of what else he’d done with his mouth. 

Maybe they could skip a third course at the restaurant and she’d have _Jon_ for dessert?

Her phone pinged. 

_Waiting outside for you. See you soon. Love you. x_

Sansa sighed happily at those last two words and thought again how she could never have fathomed how happy this summer would make her. It was, undeniably, nerve-wracking to think of moving into an apartment with Jon this soon in their relationship. In theory they would have separate rooms. In reality, Sansa figured it would be used as a separate study area so they could each get work done without distraction. 

It was nerve-wracking and scary and rollercoaster-fast. But Sansa….gods, but Sansa couldn’t wait for all of it.

Just one more week and they’d be leaving. Summer would be at an end. 

-

“To all of us”, said Sansa, raising her wine glass in a toast. 

“To all of us”, the others repeated. Robb and Jon had joined her in a glass of wine, Jeyne insisting that while she was stuck with orange juice it shouldn’t prevent the rest of them from indulging. 

“This has been a very strange few days”, said Jeyne as she set her glass back on the table. “Good strange, but strange nonetheless.”

“I still can’t believe you admitted to my mother that you had even considered eloping”, said Sansa. “How close were you to doing that? You said you were booked into the court house – was it the day of, or what?”

Jeyne and Robb exchanged a look, and her brother’s head leaned to the side. “Very? I think we decided for sure on the drive up. We had considered just getting married on our own. We’d also considered trying to convince the two of you to meet us in Moat Cailin for the night so you could be there, but you’d just have told me off and Arya would’ve gone mental because I hadn’t asked her and Gendry…….so in the end we decided just to wait until we got here.”

“In ten years, when I’m asking to describe our wedding, I think I’m going to go for unconventional but perfect”, Jeyne said, smiling at Robb.

“I can live with that after all we did in a short period of time”, Robb mused. He wrapped an arm around Jeyne. “Oh, before I forget, we’ve decided to head down to White Harbour on Tuesday. I called a realtor today and booked in a couple of apartment viewings.”

“You got a front runner?” Jon asked. 

“There’s one about fifteen minutes away from campus. Two bedrooms, first floor. Close to the centre of the city. Affordable. Jeyne liked the pictures we saw online.”

“So did you. It was strange writing up our list of what we needed in an apartment. I’ve never done that before. And then to consider whether the second bedroom is big enough for a nursery and what’s the storage like because even though they’re small, babies come with a lot of…. _stuff_.”

Sansa figured this was not the time to promise faithfully that she would spoil her future niece or nephew rotten – after all, that would involve shopping for and then gifting a lot of….. _stuff_. Instead she took another sip of her wine and hoped their food would come soon. The run had taken a lot out of her, but knowing she would be eating out this evening Sansa hadn’t wanted to ruin her appetite by having too much at lunchtime. 

“I’m going to run to the bathroom before our food comes”, said Jeyne. Sansa caught her eye and said she would go too. She stood, and followed Jeyne, waiting by the sinks while her new sister-in-law went into the stall. 

“I spoke to my father this morning.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She could hear Jeyne sigh heavily. “I told him about the wedding and the baby. He was pretty upset that he didn’t get to give me away. I – he won’t go against my mother. At least not anytime soon. Ray messaged me when we were in the cab over. My mother is _not_ happy with my news.”

Sansa could hear sniffling and pulled out a packet of tissues, which she handed to Jeyne as soon as she came out of the stall. Jeyne smiled weakly. 

“Thank you. It doesn’t help that I’m all over the place emotionally at the moment.” Jeyne blew her nose and tossed the tissue away before washing her hands.

“I think you’ll find that people will cut you some slack on that score – at least in this family, and Robb’s friends. My mother especially will forgive almost anything. You’re carrying her first grandchild. If you and Robb had actually gone ahead with a Moat Cailin wedding, though, well……things might have been a bit different!”

“We did come very close to that. I am glad we waited, though. You were a pretty great bridesmaid, Sansa. Who knows, perhaps one day this little one will return the favour.” Jeyne lay a hand on the curve of her belly, which was growing every day. 

Sansa blushed a little at Jeyne’s words. Was it wrong for her to think of Jon in that way? They’d not been together long – but then Robb and Jeyne hadn’t even known each other for a year. 

“He’s happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen him, though you’ve obviously known him far longer than I have. And you’re smiling a lot more than you were when I was here at the start of summer.”

“I am. We’ve been through a lot this summer with my transfer and Jon’s family stuff but I honestly don’t ever remember being this happy with someone.” She thought of all the lunches they’d shared and training runs and sleepovers. It made her belly squirm to think that her closeness with Jon had, in part, come about as a result of Robb’s absence over the summer. Knowing how miserable her brother had been, and the stress he had endured, made Sansa feel more than a little guilty.

“We should do this when we’re in White Harbour”, said Jeyne. “You’re my sister now.”

“And you’re mine and Arya’s.”

-

“We’ll see you tomorrow”, Sansa told her brother when they stepped out of the cab. Catelyn had invited him over for Sunday dinner when she heard his mother was working and insisted it was fine to bring Ghost. 

Jon loved hearing Sansa say that. _We’ll see you tomorrow_. Not _I’ll_ see you tomorrow. He had worried that Robb would get a little awkward when Sansa and her overnight bag got out of the cab to spend the night with him, but there had been no hint of it. Instead, he smiled and held on to the carton with Jeyne’s unfinished cheesecake.

They waved the cab off and went inside to find Ghost waiting for them, tail wagging. He made a beeline for Sansa and nuzzled in to her. Jon would need to take him outside to do his business before long. 

“All alone”, he murmured in Sansa’s ear, wrapping his arms around her. His mother had sent him a message when they were at the restaurant, to let Jon know she’d been called into work for a few hours and didn’t anticipate being home until after midnight. 

Sansa giggled and turned round to meet his mouth. “What did you have in mind?”

What _didn’t_ Jon have in mind for himself and Sansa? Every fantasy he’d ever known had been reimagined with Sansa in his head. He wanted to have her over and over and over again in every way possible and in every room and on every surface. He wanted to map out her body with his mouth and have her sweet juices as a second dessert. 

“Nothing that requires clothing”, he told her. Jon lowered his arms and moved to take Sansa’s hand. The sooner Ghost went out for his business and came back in for the night the better. “Come on, boy.”

Ghost followed him through the kitchen and out the back door. He barked happily and ran around while Jon stood behind Sansa, pressing warm, wet kisses to her neck and listening to her soft, satisfied hums. 

“I can’t wait for us to be in White Harbour, alone in our apartment every night and spending whole weekends blocking out everyone else.” It scared him a little that they were going to be living together so soon. At the same time, though, it just felt so right. 

“Whole weekends? Hmm. You’ve got a lot of faith in yourself.”

“I do. I’ve kept you happy so far, haven’t I?” Certainly she had never given him any pause to think he wasn’t satisfying her in that capacity.

“You have”, Sansa agreed. 

“I’m sure I can think of lots of ways to keep you happy.”

“You only need one. You just have to be you.” Sansa turned around and hugged him tightly. “Jon, I don’t ever remember being this happy.”

“Me too”, he replied, his eyes boring into Sansa’s. 

Ghost barked then, and brought Jon back to the present. He hurried the three of them inside, made sure Ghost had everything he needed, and then took Sansa upstairs to his room. He’d changed the bedclothes before going out for dinner and made sure the room was tidy. Sansa set her overnight bag down next to the door and bit her lip in a way that Jon found both adorable and enticing. 

He closed the door over and ran the tips of his fingers up and down her arms. Sansa’s eyes were intent on his and Jon loved the trust he saw there. He loved the _want_ he saw there. _Fuck_. But she was totally, one hundred and ten percent _it_ for him.

Sansa’s concentration broke and she grinned. “What? What do you want tonight?”

“So many things”, sighed Jon. He moved forward and pressed a kiss to her neck. “I want those clothes somewhere other than on you.” Another kiss. “I want taste you.” Another kiss, further down. “I want you to scream my name.” Another kiss, lower. “I want to make you happy.” Another kiss, this time at the base of her throat. Sansa moaned and pulled him in closer, so his chin was on the swell of her chest. 

“You want a lot.”

“I only want one th…….all I truly want is you, Sansa.” His mouth found the swell of her breasts and he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to the top of them while allowing his hands to find her waist. “This is different with you. Better different. What do you want?” At some point, Jon fully intended to have her tell him each and every fantasy she’d ever had so they could act them out. White Harbour would be best for that. When they were on their own.

Sansa chuckled. “I want everything you said.” She put her soft hand under his chin and raised his gaze to her beautiful blue eyes, ringed with navy. “And I want to ride you. I want to bury you deep inside me and I want to fly. You make me fly, Jon.”

Sansa took a step back and lifted her sundress over her head, so she was stood in front of him wearing only a satin black bra and panties and a pair of sandals, her long braid falling over her left shoulder and coming to rest on her breast. “You’re wearing too many clothes”, she told him. 

Jon agreed.

-

“What’s that?” Jon asked. Sansa lay curled into him, her leg entwined with his, while she drew invisible symbols on his bare chest and hummed softly. 

“Just a song”, she replied, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “ _You are my sunshine_.”

It was dark outside now and the air cooler. Summer was coming to an end but Sansa was more than enough to keep him warm. He pulled her in closer, looking forward to months and months when they could do this whenever they wanted, without worrying about when someone else was due home.

“You make me happy”, Sansa told him. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last few days, how I felt when I took the train home from King’s Landing at the start of summer. I was excited to see my family again and at the prospect of moving home. But I wasn’t happy. I know that because when I compare how I felt then to how I feel now……..its lightyears apart.”

He met her gaze and smiled back at her. “I don’t remember ever smiling this much. Robb and Sam and – well, pretty much everyone, actually, would tell you that I don’t smile. You changed that. I love you, Sansa. There was so much this summer that you were like……the person keeping me tethered to everything.”

Sansa shivered and Jon pulled a blanket over them. In spite of the long-term relationships he’d had, this was new to him, lying cuddled together after sex. Ygritte had normally jumped up and headed home (they had been in high school, after all, and she’d had a curfew to keep to) and Val had been the same. When she stayed the night, she’d pull on his t-shirt and boxers and go through to the kitchen for a post-coital snack. Sansa, however, was content to just _be_. 

“I’ll need to call Sam tomorrow, wish him luck for Monday”, said Jon. It would be his first day teaching as a qualified teacher and not a student. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Maybe – would – what do you think about inviting Sam and Gilly out for dinner on Friday? We could go with Lyanna and Jeyne and Robb to _The Wolf’s Den_ or somewhere else.”

Jon snorted. “If my mother’s coming with, then I think we’ll be going somewhere dog friendly. But, yeah, that sounds cool.”

“It makes moving to White Harbour easier, knowing that I’ll have friends there. _Real_ friends.” Aside from the friends he’d introduced to her, he and Sansa had promised to meet up with Edda and Erena once the semester started. Jon had faith in her finding more friends on her Northern Lit course. 

The summer was coming to an end and Jon couldn’t quite believe they were about to start a new semester. His first year at WHU Law had passed him by in a blur and he anticipated his second year being the same. There would be more opportunities through the year to investigate different types of law before he could specialize further in his final year. After Christmas he would also have a chance to apply for a work experience placement at a local law firm one day a week. 

Real, adult life was creeping in on him, but Jon figured if he had Sansa with him then it couldn’t be too bad. 

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Sansa asked him. 

“I was thinking we could stay in bed for most of the morning, get up late and then pick up breakfast from Mordane’s. After that, what do you think of a long walk in Wolfswood Country Park with Ghost?”

“Mmmm. A nice, long leisurely walk. Sounds so much better than all the packing that I’ll need to do Monday and Tuesday.” Sansa made a face. “You’ll come over for dinner the day before we go back? You and Lyanna?”

“Yeah, I guess we _might_.” He normally had a quiet night in with his mother, take-out and a few beers, but Robb had hinted that they might go over to the Stark home on this occasion. Jon figured his mother wouldn’t mind. She had accepted his relationship with Sansa easily and got on well with Ned and Catelyn. 

“You _might_ ”, Sansa teased.

“We _might_.” Jon shifted them round so he was hovering above Sansa. He kissed her lightly. “I am hungry now, though, and I figured you might be able to help me with that.”

“Depends what you’re hungry for, I guess.”

“Oh, I was thinking of something with a sweet tang to it….something like the nectar of a goddess……”

-

“That you ready for tomorrow?” Sansa looked up to see Robb standing in the doorway. 

“I think so. We’re really not that far away if I’ve forgotten anything.” All her boxes were packed and ready to go and she had an overnight bag with a couple of changes of clothes and another small rucksack with a few of her books and necessities. The truck her parents had arranged to carry their things to White Harbour was due first thing, but Sansa liked the idea of exploring the city with Jon when they arrived – they’d need to stretch their legs after the long car journey – and then unpacking slowly. 

Sansa thought of them all driving down to White Harbour and felt a little guilty about the environmental impact of five people and a dog taking _three_ cars. But she supposed Lyanna would be going on to Karhold after a few days, and she and Jon might want to go off for a night somewhere. Oldcastle wasn’t too far and there was a lovely inn there. 

“You and Jeyne ready?”

“Yeah. She’s gone for a nap before dinner.” Robb and Jeyne had managed to get a lot done since their return from the Westerlands, even spending a day in White Harbour to look around a couple of apartments and visit a doctor recommended to their mother. They hadn’t put down a deposit on anything but they had arranged some more appointments for the start of the following week, though their viewings needed to be worked around their hospital scan on Tuesday morning.

“I had a text from Jon – he and Lyanna should be here in about ten minutes.” Robb chuckled at that. “What?”

“It – when I left here, however many weeks ago it was, Jon would’ve texted _me_ to say he was on his way over. Now he texts you.”

“Jealous?”

“No. Just very aware of how much things have changed in a short period of time.” Sansa patted the space next to her and Robb came over to sit down. She’d missed this, the two of them spending time together and just talking. There hadn’t really been time for it at all this summer – either before his trip to the Westerlands or since his return. 

“Jon’s my best friend and I know he won’t hurt you. But if I’m completely wrong then let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” Sansa knew it was in jest, though. 

“I don’t think you’ll need to do any ass kicking. Besides, if it was required then why would I ask you when Arya would be more than willing?”

“True, true”, Robb admitted. 

“I can’t believe this time next summer you’ll have a _baby_ when we come home.” 

Robb coughed. “Yeah, sometimes I can’t believe that either. Listen, Jeyne wants to speak to both of you when Jon’s here, but while it’s just the two of us…….we want you and Jon to be the baby’s godparents.”

“Robb…..” Sansa breathed softly. “ _Yes_. Thank you. It – that means so, so much to me.”

She wrapped her arms around her big brother tightly and allowed the happy tears she could feel falling to cover her cheeks. Her heart was so full that Sansa couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling.

-

“That you ready?” Jon asked. “You’ve got everything you need for yourself and Ghost?”

“I do. I’ve got everything I need for the festival and for White Harbour.” Jon looked in the back seat and reasoned that given the amount of bags and equipment he could see, she probably did have everything she’d need. “Come on, Ghost!”

Jon hugged his mother. “I’ll see you in White Harbour, then. Text me when you get there. And remember there’s that café off junction fifteen with the good coffee and cake. Sansa and I will probably stop there, but you don’t need to wait for us. There’s benches outside and a grassy area for dogs who’ve been cooped up on a long drive.”

“I’ll remember. I also – while it’s just the two of us, I wanted to say thank you. You’ve been great this summer, Jon. You’ve been here when I was mentally somewhere else, caught up in a fog, and I never would’ve got out the other side without you.”

Jon nodded. But it had always been the two of them and he wouldn’t ever let her feel like she was alone. “Us against the world”, he said, repeating words she’d said to him over and over again throughout his childhood.

“Exactly.”

She got in her car and Jon could see Ghost in the back window, panting away. He waved them off, made a final check to ensure the house was locked up, and drove over to pick up Sansa. Jon smiled at the thought of the long car journey ahead and Sansa singing along the entire trip down. 

On the way over, he’d thought about the conversation Jeyne and Robb had pulled him and Sansa aside for after dinner the night before. They’d all been uncomfortably full thanks to the massive meal Catelyn had cooked, but they’d taken their glasses of water (Jeyne) and wine (himself, Robb and Sansa) outside and Robb had awkwardly asked them both to stand as the baby’s godparents. It had really hit home in that moment that Robb, his _best friend_ , was going to be a _father_ in just a few months. 

Jon wondered how many children Sansa wanted to have. 

He had to admit that the thought of Sansa carrying their child filled him with fear and excitement and want. It filled him with a sense of finding the person his life was meant to be about. 

Pulling up next to Robb’s car in the Stark driveway, however, Jon put that from his mind – along with thoughts of the place he’d purchased his grandmother’s birthday present at in White Harbour. They’d had all sorts of jewellery there. Jewellery that could wait until the time was right. 

Speaking of his grandmother, he’d promised to do a video call with her and Rhae this evening. They’d be able to talk properly to Robb and Jeyne for the first time. 

He was surprised to see that they were ready to go. He’d anticipated a good half an hour of coffee and cake, followed by running backwards and forwards between the car and the house with something inevitably identified as having been forgotten, and then a final trip to the bathroom. That constituted his _typical_ departure on a journey with one or more of the Starks. 

One summer he had gone on a camping trip with them. Jon had returned feeling equally certain that he wanted to be part of a large family and relieved he was an only child. 

Robb’s car was fully packed and Jeyne was sitting in the front seat, while Sansa stood at the front door with a couple of bags. Jon guessed the firm Ned had hired to move them all to White Harbour had already been and gone. Arya, Bran and Rickon were out at the front of the house, looking bleary-eyed. 

“ _I told you_ I’d be ready when you got here”, Sansa told him smugly once she’d greeted him with a kiss.

“You did”, Jon agreed. He picked up her bags and took them over to the car while Catelyn ran inside, probably having forgotten to give Sansa or Robb something. When he got back to the door, Sansa was forcing Bran and Rickon into farewell hugs and promising a text as soon as they arrived and an evening video call. 

Jon hugged Arya, but high-fived her younger brothers. Sansa got more emotional saying goodbye to Arya and her parents and Jon saw Arya’s eyes soften slightly when her sister hugged her. Having known the two of them for pretty much their entire lives, there was a time Jon would’ve thought that impossible. 

Catelyn handed Jon a large bag. He looked inside to see a number of Tupperware boxes and two thermos. “I’ve made you one of chicken soup and one of coffee. There’s some baking in there and sandwiches – cheese and ham, which I know you both take – and some shepherd’s pie for dinner tonight. There should be enough there for the four of you. 

“Thank you”, said Jon. Catelyn smiled at him, telling him with her expression that she trusted him to keep Sansa safe and happy. 

“Jon.” He shook Ned’s hand and promised they’d remember to text and call. 

They decided to pull out of the driveway first, and after another round of goodbye’s made their way to Jon’s car.

It would be a long day, but Jon found himself looking forward to it.

“Ready?” Jon asked as Sansa fastened her seatbelt. 

“Ready”, she confirmed. She waved at her parents and sister at the door, and at Robb and Jeyne in her brother’s car. As they pulled away, Jon could hear her humming away to the tune he recalled from Saturday night. _You are my sunshine_.


	28. Five Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have taken this journey with Jon and Sansa and their families and friends! Thank you particularly to those who have left comments and kudos - your support is so very much appreciated!

“Do you think we should’ve just gone to Oldcastle for a couple of nights by ourselves?” Jon asked. He was in the middle of the kitchen in the townhouse he and Sansa shared in White Harbour, surrounded by bags of buns and condiments, boxes of raw meat and cases of wine and beer. They _really_ should’ve just gone to Oldcastle – or Widow’s Watch or Ramsgate or anywhere, really – instead of inviting their entire families to White Harbour for the weekend.

It was his and Sansa’s first wedding anniversary and when they’d first mooted their plans to commemorate it, Jon had made it clear that a naked Sansa was all he truly desired. Sansa, however, pointed out it was their last real opportunity to have a big event at their town house before the planned move back to Wintertown. 

A naked Sansa sounded pretty amazing about now.

Sansa swatted him gently on the arm with a smile and a pack of hot dog buns. “Don’t be like that. I know you’re looking forward to seeing everyone as much as I am.” She had a point there. 

“I suppose so”, he conceded. 

He hadn’t seen any of the Starks in person since Easter, save Robb, Jeyne and the kids, who had come for a short weekend a few weeks earlier. His mother had come for a few days shortly before Robb’s visit and the weekend he’d spent in Dorne with Sansa just after New Year was the last time he’d seen Rhae. It had been a little awkward being around her mother’s family and strange being in such a warm place in the middle of winter, but he’d enjoyed spending time with his sister. 

Jon’s phone pinged and he picked it up, glancing at the message from said sister. “Rhae’s just left the airport. She said Arya’s flight landed early, so they were able to get out of there quickly.”

Their respective sisters were flying in from Sunspear (where Rhae now lived, working for her Uncle Oberyn) and Braavos (where Arya had been for a week-long training camp) and had arranged to travel down to White Harbour together. If Jon knew his sister well, then Rhae would’ve organized a flash car with a chauffeur and ample space for the two of them and Gendry. 

Jon wrapped his arms around Sansa, hugging her from behind. “Jon, we’ve got too much to do. I love you and would happily spend from now until our guests arrive in our bed, but I have to put this food away and make sure everything is set up in the guest rooms. And you need to make sure the barbeque is still in working order and set up the yard. They’ll all be here in a few hours.”

“I know”, Jon sighed. “You know, _you_ could go to bed for a while and I could get all of this done.” His hands slipped downwards to her belly. He swiped a thumb over the growing swell there. “I can’t wait to tell them.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. It’s only a few hours and then the grandparents-to-be will be in the loop. Lyanna’s going to be so happy – though I fully expect her to tell us that she’s far too young to be a grandmother.”

“I told her she was one when Ghost fathered those puppies.” That had earned him a good-natured swat on the arm, but his mother doted on the two little pups she’d kept from the litter. Jon would’ve taken one if he and Sansa hadn’t adopted their sweet Frostfangs Husky, Lady, a year earlier. His mother wasn’t bringing the three dogs this time – her friend Hallie was housesitting and would take care of them all. 

Sansa snorted. “I remember. I also remember her not being too happy. And you’re very sweet, Jon, but I’m fine. Doctor Pylos said I was perfectly healthy when we went for our appointment last week and I’ve been feeling stronger and stronger every day since that mis-labelled _morning_ sickness ended.”

“Okay.” Jon knew better than to argue with his wife. Besides, she’d only retort that she was the one carrying their child and therefore knew better than he did what she felt herself able to do. 

“I’m going to miss this house.” Sansa looked around them. “We’ve had some good times here. We conceived our child here.”

“I like that we’ll be moved and settled before the baby’s born. Our new place will be the baby’s first home.” They’d purchased an attractive cottage that had been extended and restored, situated near Wolfswood Country Park, which came with five bedrooms. Arya had spat out her drink when she’d heard that and wrapped her arms around Sansa, proclaiming loudly that Jon was obviously a caveman who intended to keep her sister in a state of almost-constant pregnancy. Sansa had retorted that they wanted to turn two of the bedrooms into home offices. 

“First and hopefully _only_ childhood home.”

Jon chuckled at that. Jeyne and Robb’s eldest child, Neddy, was already on his third home (his fourth if they counted the long spells he’d spent at the Stark family home). Robb and Jeyne had eventually found a child and student friendly apartment around the corner from Sam and Gilly, but a year into the lease the owner had died and his children had wanted to sell. And so, Robb, Jeyne and seven-month-old Neddy had moved into the apartment Sam and Gilly vacated when they moved into a new build on the outskirts of White Harbour. It wasn’t until their move back to Wintertown when Robb graduated that they found a permanent home. 

“You know what, it’ll be easier if we just set up all this food under the canopy outside. If we leave it all covered up then no harm will come to it until Rickon appears. You do that, check on the barbeque, and I’ll triple check the bedrooms.”

“Okay.” Jon picked up a crate of red wine bottles. “And Sansa – thank you. I feel terrible sending your family to a hotel – “

“Your family is now family, and mine is yours”, Sansa told him, rolling her eyes. “Remember? I know you were there at the wedding same as I was. You took me to be yours and I took you to be mine – that means all you have, I do too. And all I have is also yours.”

“You’re always right”, Jon groused. 

“As Arya says - D’uh.”

-

Sansa stood in the larger of the two spare bedrooms in their townhouse and looked down at the back yard, where Jon was setting things up. They were all going out for dinner the following evening, on Jon and Sansa’s actual anniversary, but it had been so long since they’d all been together that she’d suggested a barbeque as a fun and relaxed way of ensuring everyone could catch up – and it also meant she didn’t need to come up with a dinner that would please and feed more than a dozen people. 

She straightened up the vase of freshly cut blue roses on the dresser, selected from her garden that very morning. They were Lyanna’s favourite flower and Sansa adored her mother-in-law. This was the room Lyanna and Sandor usually had when they came to visit. Sansa recalled her Christmas trip home at the end of her first semester in White Harbour, and Jon’s discovery that his mother had been on a couple of dates with the bartender from _The Three Dogs_. Sandor had moved in Lyanna’s cottage the following summer and they seemed very happy together. 

Sansa was more concerned about the other spare bedroom. It was smaller, and while the lack of an en-suite in any of the spare bedrooms hadn’t been an issue on any of Rhae’s previous visits as Jon and Sansa had one, she knew her sister-in-law was someone who demanded the best in her personal and professional lives. 

She doubted Rhae would say anything, but she still wanted to please her. Rhae and Jon had become so close in the last few years (especially following Gamma Rhae’s death from a recurrence of her cancer just before Jon graduated from WHU Law) that Sansa wanted to give her the best. She had four siblings interfering with love in her life, but Jon only had one who spoke to him. Jon claimed to have accepted he and Aegon would never be friendly, but Sansa knew it still hurt her husband. 

Sansa checked Rhae’s room over and decided it passed muster. Plus, she held an ace card in her belly – Rhae’s first niece or nephew. She couldn’t wait to tell their families. 

They hadn’t quite intended to have a baby so soon – Sansa had, after all, been accepted onto a doctoral program at Wintertown U that was due to commence in a matter of weeks. She’d arranged for a year-long deferment on that and checked the reviews of the campus childcare facilities. This was also going to be news to her family. Only she and Jon knew about the baby – well, within the family. Sam and Gilly had been sworn to secrecy after they’d met unexpectedly at their twelve-week scan. They would never say so, but Sansa wondered if they were hoping for a girl to add to their two-year-old twin boys, Sammy and Aemon.

In the twelve months since graduating after her Masters, Sansa had thought seriously about the direction she wanted her career to go in and after flirting with the idea of publishing, had decided she liked the thought of teaching. The last twelve months had not been wasted, however, as Sansa had worked as a research assistant to her former professor, Harma Doghead, on a book relating to animal symbolism in Northern folklore.

Sansa fluffed up Rhae’s pillows for a second time and decided the room was as ready as it would ever be. When she went back down to the kitchen, she saw that Jon had set up a table on the decking under the canopy and organized the food. He’d also set out all their garden furniture and was hauling the barbeque from the back of the garage. 

They’d been together for five years, living together for almost as long, and married for three hundred and sixty-odd glorious days, but Sansa still found herself smiling at the sight of Jon. He was right, of course, two nights to themselves somewhere would’ve been blissful – and perhaps something they could do once the move was completed. A _babymoon_ , she’d heard it called. But, this would make it easier to tell their families all at once and Sansa wanted to do that in person. Their parents and siblings would all be here for the big reveal. 

Sansa stepped out onto the decking and into the early afternoon sunshine. “Jon, it all looks wonderful.”

“Only the best for you, Sans. I promise.” She ignored the sweat on his brow when he leaned in to kiss her. Gods, but she’d love to be able to haul him upstairs for a quick round or two before their guests arrived. Lyanna could turn up early, though, and if Arya thought she and Jon had spent the bulk of the day in bed then her sister would say so bluntly and Jon’s neck and ears would turn red as a tomato in an instant.

Sansa never got tired of kissing Jon and he seemed to feel the same way about her. That summer five years ago had changed her life for the better in so, so, so many ways. 

-

“Sansa, this looks amazing.” She hugged her sister-in-law as tightly as Jeyne’s large belly permitted, before crouching down to hug her four-year-old nephew, Neddy, and his younger – though only by a bare year – sister Cate. 

“All I had to do was make a list and guide Jon round the grocery store. He did the rest while I set up the rooms, and he’ll be in charge of the barbeque.” Her husband and eldest brother were now standing next to the barbeque, seemingly taking inventory on the boxes of meat she’d picked up.

Jon had been extra attentive since the day he’d come home from work earlier than normal and found her in their bedroom, staring at a stick with two pink lines on it. After a couple of days of feeling off, Sansa had taken the test more to set her mind at rest than to prove anything. 

Part of her still couldn’t believe it had been positive, but she wouldn’t change it for anything. 

“Auntie Sansa, I go play?” Neddy asked her sweetly. He pointed out at the large back yard, where the rest of the family had spread out. Robb, Jeyne and the kids had been the last to arrive, her mother informing her earlier that Cate was just finishing up her nap at the hotel.

“Yeah, you go play.” Sansa scanned the back yard. “Why don’t the two of you go and see Uncle Rickon? He likes to play games, doesn’t he?”

“Uncle Rickon!” Cate cheered. Sansa watched as the two of them ran towards her youngest brother and attacked his legs. Jeyne laughed at the sight. 

“Should we find you a chair, or are you more comfortable standing up at the moment?” Sansa asked.

“I’ll stand for now. I can’t be in the same position for too long. It was the same with Cate.” Jeyne had around six weeks to go until her due date. Sansa knew if it had been much less then she’d probably have begged off. Both Neddy and Cate had arrived around three weeks before they were due. 

“I have never been more relieved than I have the last three months that Robb works for your father”, said Jeyne, arching her back slightly. “The cases he’s been given, the suggestion we convert the garage into an office so Robb can work from home every once in a while. I know Robb wants to prove he is as worthy of a place in the firm as someone who isn’t named Stark. I understand that. But I am also a pregnant mother of two pre-school children.”

“The ability to work from home is part of the reason Jon and I picked out the house we did”, said Sansa. She looked around again, as she knew she would do in the little time she had left here. “I’ll miss this place, though. It was our first real home together. The first one we owned. Our first married home. But, I know Jon is looking forward to working with dad and Robb.”

It was a stunning house near WHU that they’d been able to afford only because Jon had accepted the money his grandmother had left for him. 

“And there’s your doctoral program”, said Jeyne, cutting across Sansa’s thoughts. “You’ll have to tell me what Wintertown U’s post-grad programs are like. I’ve – one day, I would like to go back to work. Well, start work. I suppose you can’t return to something you’ve never really done. I’ve spoken to Robb about it. I don’t want to get caught up in corporate life. I hated that blasted internship in Lannisport. I thought instead of an HR job, I might do a teaching course. My under-grad qualification was in Business Admin. I could teach it at a high school.”

“That sounds great. You should speak to Sam about it sometime. Teaching, I mean.” Sam and Gilly had become two of her closest friends, and he adored the profession. 

“There you both are”, said her mother, interrupting the conversation. “I was wondering where the two of you had got to. Now, Jeyne, you should take a seat outside. I came in for another glass of that prosecco. Sansa, you should take one for yourself. If Jon is anything like Ned, you won’t be permitted to cook the meat. Come on.”

Sansa picked up the glass and followed her mother and Jeyne outside. She knew that Jeyne secretly loved her mother fussing like this when she was pregnant. Instead of following them to the decked area where the chairs were, she went over to the barbeque and handed her glass to Jon. “I brought you this.”

“Thank you.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing as much as she did that he rarely drank prosecco, but Sansa simply smiled. They’d decided to wait until after everyone had eaten to announce their news. 

“What about me?” Robb pouted. 

“You’re driving”, Sansa reminded him. 

“One beer won’t do me any harm.” Sansa rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll get you a beer”, said Jon. Her husband walked away, leaving Sansa with her brother.

“How are you?”

“Good, considering I endured a four hour long drive with two small children. Plus, Jeyne’s at that stage where she needs to – uhm, we had more than a couple of bathroom stops. But, yeah, good. I’ve taken next week off work to get a few things done in the house before the baby arrives.”

Sometimes Sansa found it hard to believe her brother would soon be a father of three. When he spoke of Jeyne or the children, though, his eyes simply lit up. 

“I’m looking forward to moving home and spending more time with all of you – and I know Jon agrees that we want to be more present as Neddy’s godparents.” She smiled at the memory of Jeyne and Robb asking them to take up that role. It was a conversation that Sansa intended to be reciprocated that evening. “I know that Jon’s looking forward to working with you and dad.”

She and Jon had stayed in White Harbour after he graduated from WHU Law initially because she was still studying there. Her father had made it clear to Jon that there was a position at Stark & Sons open to him whenever he wanted it. They’d considered moving the previous summer, but Sansa had been offered the opportunity to work with Professor Doghead and so they’d stayed.

“I’m looking forward to it myself. His work on equalities and family cases has been discussed through the North. It could help us win over potential clients.” Sansa was pleased. She knew Jon liked to prove himself and that no matter what any of them said, he’d work three times as hard to show everyone he earned his job through more than his status as Ned Stark’s son-in-law.

“Here you are.” Jon handed Robb a beer and wrapped an arm around Sansa. 

“Cheers”, said Robb. “So, now that we’re all here – when are you starting on the food?”

-

Jon took the stairs two at a time. He _knew_ he should’ve been more careful with the ketchup, but no matter. One of the advantages of hosting was that he had a clean shirt within easy reach – he’d only needed to wait until all the meat had been cooked. 

He’d put his new black shirt on – the one Sansa had picked up for him the other week when she was out shopping for new and baggier clothes.

At the top of the stairs he found Jeyne pacing.

“Beaten to it”, she told him. 

“Come and use the en-suite in mine and Sansa’s room”, Jon told her. He indicated his shirt. “Ketchup. I came inside to change. Go on.”

When Jeyne closed the bathroom door over, Jon pulled off his dirty shirt and took his new one from the closet. He and Sansa would need to start packing this room up soon, he thought. It was strange to think of them moving. At least they’d be able to do it all in the one day and wouldn’t need to spend weeks with his mother and Sandor or the Starks, as Robb and Jeyne had. 

He noted the sweat stains on the shirt he’d taken off and sprayed some deodorant before putting the new shirt on. The heat from the barbeque, no doubt. Jon sat on the bed and waited for Jeyne. He’d grinned widely at the sight of her when she’d arrived with Robb, thinking instantly of how he couldn’t wait for Sansa to grow big with their child. 

Although they’d both discussed children and agreed to start a family at an unspecified point in the future, they hadn’t planned to get pregnant at this juncture. Not with Sansa about to start her doctoral program. But, after the initial shock had worn off, the only thing Jon had felt was pure joy at the thought of the baby growing inside his wife. He’d heard people talk in the past of _the glow of pregnancy_ , but Jon hadn’t been able to tell. Sansa already grew more beautiful to him each day even before the baby was conceived. 

Jon couldn’t wait to be a father and hoped that this one would be the first of many. 

“Thank you”, Jeyne sighed. “Sorry, the baby sometimes mistakes my bladder for a toy to be played with.”

“It’s quite alright.” Jon recalled being around Jeyne during both of her earlier pregnancies.

“You’ll get used to it”, she snorted. “So, how far along is Sansa? I wanted to get her on her own to ask, but I’ve yet to succeed for long enough to do so.”

Jon was surprised. Sansa wore a loose fitting dress that had been selected specifically to ensure nobody guessed before their big reveal. “Almost fourteen weeks”, he admitted. “How – “

“She’s been passing off prosecco to you all day, whenever someone hands her a glass, and I know you’re more of a beer man. I also have a similar dress that I wore a few months ago. It conceals your bump in the early stages.”

“We’re telling everyone today.”

“I won’t spoil the surprise. I am excited about the idea of at least one of our children having a cousin the same age. Congratulations.” Jeyne leaned forward to hug him, protecting her bump. Jon supposed that was something he’d also need to get used to with Sansa. 

“Thank you. I have to admit, we’re both waiting for my mother to protest that she’s too young for grandchildren.”

Jeyne laughed. “She could insist they simply call her Lyanna. Or nana sounds close enough that it could simply be someone mispronouncing her name? Arya’s the one you have to watch out for, though. When Robb and I announced we were having this little one, she thumped him and asked if he was ever planning to leave me alone as three children in less than five years seemed excessive to her.”

Jon hadn’t thought of that. 

“This is just our first.”

“Maybe _first_ isn’t the word to use.”

“Perhaps not. Come on, we should go back. I’ll need to get the cheesecake we bought out.”

Jon helped Jeyne downstairs and out to the decking area, where Robb settled her into a seat and grabbed the cushion he’d got for her earlier. He chuckled and went to the fridge. Sansa had suggesting making some sort of dessert, but Jon had insisted they simply purchase a few cheesecakes from their local bakery. He’d also picked up some lemon cakes for her when he’d gone to collect their order. Sansa had smiled, become tearful and hugged him tightly.

He set the cheesecakes, which had come pre-sliced, out on the stands Sansa had selected not long after they moved into the house. She’s said that now they had a home of their own, they’d need to entertain properly, and that meant she needed new baking equipment.

“Do you need a hand with anything?” Rhae came into the room from the hallway. Jon supposed she must’ve been the one to beat Jeyne to the bathroom. 

“Yeah, could you take the strawberry and white chocolate ones?” Jon asked, pointing at two of the cheesecakes. “I’ll take the toffee and grab the fruit jellies we got for the kids.”

“Right on.”

Jon was pleased his sister was staying for a couple of days after everyone else left. He wanted to talk to her about her new promotion and catch up with the latest news from Aunt Dany, who was far better at keeping in touch with Rhae than she was with him. His aunt lived in East Essos and worked sixteen hour days expanding the family business in the area. Jon had been touched, though, when she came to Wintertown for his and Sansa’s wedding.

He placed the toffee cheesecake on the table set up outside and went over to where Neddy and Cate were sitting with their namesakes. Jon squatted down and handed them the jellies. “There you go. Daddy told me which ones were your favourites.”

“What do you say to that, then?” Catelyn murmured in her grandson’s ear.

“Thank you, Uncle Jon”, Neddy giggled. 

“Ta”, Cate said softly. Jon took in his niece. While Neddy had taken after Jeyne, his younger sister was very much Robb’s daughter in looks and reminiscent of Sansa at that age – or so Jon thought when he looked at the old pictures his in-laws had. If he and Sansa had a daughter, he wondered if she’d look just like Cate.

-

“Are you ready?” Jon asked. He and Sansa had agreed that they’d give a short toast of sorts, thanking everyone for coming, in which they’d also announce their good news. 

“Yes, I am. I suppose I should hold a glass of something fizzy for show, and have an orange juice handy!” Jon chuckled and went to procure just that for his wife. He glanced around the garden on his return. Robb and Jeyne were talking to Arya and Gendry, his mother and Sandor to Ned and Catelyn while Neddy and Cate played nearby. Rhae was having what seemed a very involved discussion with Bran and Rickon.

For all he had practiced law for three years now, Jon still hated public speaking. Sansa seemed to sense that and took his hand. 

“Could Jon and I just say something for a moment?” She spoke loudly enough to capture everyone’s attention and soon they had around a dozen sets of eyes on them. “Firstly, we want to thank you all for coming to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. It doesn’t feel like it was a year ago. In some ways it feels like our wedding was yesterday and in others like we’ve been married for years.”

“I hope that’s a good thing”, Jon put in.

“It is”, Sansa assured him. She squeezed his hand.

“To Jon and Sansa”, Robb called out, raising his glass as he had at their wedding, to conclude his best man’s speech. 

“To Jon and Sansa”, the rest of their guests echoed. 

After a pause, Sansa began to speak again. “So, I said that was the first thing we wanted to say. The second is that we are both very much looking forward to seeing more of almost all of you when we move back to Wintertown. All assistance with that move is appreciated, though I guess Robb and Jeyne have a good get-out clause.” That led to a number of chuckles and Arya saying something inaudible to Jon in the direction of her elder brother. Sansa looked at him, as if to say _go on_. 

“Finally, we also were excited you we all able to come today because it gives us a chance to tell you all at the same time that in a few months, Sansa and I will get started on filling up that great big house we bought in Wintertown. And I hope all three of us will be happy there.” Jon heard a woof amid the cheers. “All _four_ of us! Sorry, Lady.”

“How could you forget our precious girl like that?” Sansa asked softly. 

Jon didn’t have an opportunity to respond, however, as Sansa was kissing him and then their family was upon them. His mother was the first person to reach Jon. “I am so, so happy for you, sweetheart.”

“I’m not making you old before your time?” he asked wryly. 

“Well, yes, you are, but we can be trendy and have the little munchkin call me by my given name.” Jon laughed and pulled her back into his arms. She whispered quietly in his ear, softly enough that they were the only two who could hear. “You’re going to be an amazing father, Jon. And your child is going to look at you and think you hung the moon, the stars and the sun.”

“Thank you”, he murmured back. “If I’m a quarter as good as you were with me, then I’ll be happy.” His mother stepped back, and Sandor grasped his hand, gruffly offering his congratulations, before Rhae practically jumped on him. 

“Congratulations! I’ll have to make my trips to the frozen North more frequent to make sure I get my fill of my little niece or nephew!” She hugged him tightly. “I’m so pleased for you, Jon. So, so pleased. A beautiful wife and fledgling career, and now a baby on the way.”

He thanked Rhae and accepted hugs from all the Starks. At some point, he and Sansa would need to pull Robb and Jeyne apart from the rest before they went back to their hotel. 

At some point. Once he stopped grinning enough to speak.

-

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Honest”, Sansa assured her mother. She’d been steered into a seat she deemed unnecessary, but knew there was no arguing with someone who’d birthed five children in this. Sansa had known from the moment that the pregnancy test proved positive that she was heading towards a pregnancy spent being fussed over as much as Jeyne had been.

Her beaming sister-in-law sat on her other side. “Baby three will have a cousin the same age.”

“Baby three”, her mother sighed, but Sansa could tell she was equally as pleased by this.

“I’ve spoken to Wintertown U and got a twelve month deferral for my doctorate”, Sansa told them.

“You still want to go ahead with that?” her mother asked. 

“Of course.” Sansa loved studying literature and did not intend to be a stay-at-home mother as hers had been. She wanted a career and a life outside of her family. Something that was hers, _Sansa’s_ , alone. Sansa had worked hard to achieve academic success and that wouldn’t change when she and Jon expanded their family.

“Well, you have another twelve months. How have you been managing so far, Sansa? Any morning sickness? Any pain, or tenderness?”

Again, Sansa had been prepared for this. “ _Morning_ sickness”, she snorted. “That is false advertising. And yes, I’ve had it. At varying points of the day. Though thankfully not for a few weeks now. There’s been no pain and Doctor Pylos gave us both a clean bill of health at our last appointment.”

That reminded her of the picture she and Jon had got framed and had been hidden away in advance of their announcement. She got back up and promised her mother and Jeyne she’d be back in just a moment. 

When she went into the house, she found a pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around her from behind. Jon kissed her neck in a way that made Sansa wish they didn’t have any guests. 

“Jon”, she whined. “Don’t do that when you can’t make good on it.”

Jon chuckled. “Escaping your mother like I’ve run away from mine?”

“I was getting the picture to show everyone. Having it framed was a really good idea. It means the picture won’t get torn or covered in finger prints when we pass it around.”

“I seem to remember it being _your_ idea”, he replied. 

“It was.”

When Sansa took the framed picture in her hands, she felt Jon’s move down to caress her belly gently. He’d taken to doing that a lot, even before they’d started to distinguish the changes in her body. Sansa couldn’t imagine going through this journey with any other man. She loved him more and more each day. 

“Come on, then”, he murmured. Sansa turned around and took his hand. They went back outside to the sunshine and their family. Jon called Lyanna over while Sansa handed the frame to her mother and Jeyne. 

“Oh, Sansa!” her mother gasped. 

“Your fourth grandchild”, Sansa told her. When Robb and Jeyne had turned up at the end of that summer five years earlier, unexpectedly expecting, Sansa had never considered the possibility that Jeyne would have a further two children before any of the rest of them gave her parents a grandchild. In all honesty, Sansa didn’t think she’d considered the subject at all. 

“Ned! Come and see this!”

“Baby’s first picture”, said Jeyne. “Let me know if you need anything. _Anything_.”

In other words, if you have any questions you don’t want to ask your mother or your doctor, come and speak to me. Sansa smiled. In Jeyne and Gilly she had two contemporaries very close to her who had experience of pregnancy and child-rearing.

“Can I?” Jon asked. Lyanna was standing next to him and Sansa handed her the frame.

Sansa saw the smile grow wide on her face. She’d known Lyanna since she was a little girl, but they’d become closer in the five years since she and Jon had come together. Sansa understood a lot better how Lyanna was a hybrid elder sister and mother to Jon and how vastly different their relationship was to the one she had with her own mother. 

Lyanna enveloped Jon in a tight hug. “I am so, so, so happy for the two of you”, Sansa heard her say softly. “I remember when you were this small.”

Lyanna broke away from Jon and hugged Sansa. She was transported back in time twelve months to the day of her wedding, when Lyanna had become more emotional than Sansa had seen her since Rhaegar’s death, and thanked Sansa profusely over and over again for making Jon happy. 

“Thank you”, Sansa whispered. _Thank you for Jon. Thank you for the father of my child. Thank you for the man who has made me happier than I once considered I could be_. 

-

“Do you have a moment?” Sansa asked Robb. He was talking to Arya and Gendry and Sansa felt a little guilty that she hadn’t spent much time with her sister so far. They would need to remedy that – perhaps Arya and Gendry could come over for brunch in the morning?

“On you go, don’t mind us”, said Arya, though the smile on her face told Sansa she didn’t feel as left out as her tone of voice implied.

Robb got up and dusted the grass from his clothes. Sansa could tell that Neddy and Cate were starting to tire and she and Jon wanted to speak to Jeyne and Robb before they left. “The kids getting a bit wild?” Robb asked.

“Tired.” She pointed over to the other side of the garden. “Rickon’s been running rings around them. I just – Jon and I wanted to speak to you about something.”

Jon was waiting for them in the kitchen, where he’d taken Jeyne to get a glass of water. She looked twice as tired as Neddy had the last time he’d run past Sansa, chasing Uncle Rickon, and Sansa knew she should be back at the hotel by now, asleep.

“We’ll get the kids in a minute and head for the hotel”, said Robb as soon as his eyes fell upon Jeyne. It said a lot about how tired she was that there was not a word of dissent. 

“We won’t be more than a minute anyway”, said Jon. He turned to look at her, and Sansa leaned into her husband’s side. She nodded for him to continue. “So, it meant a lot to me and Sansa when you asked us to be Neddy’s godparents. We’re looking forward to seeing more of him and Cate and – baby three? – when we’re back in Wintertown. And we wondered if you would both agree to being godparents to Snow Junior.”

“Would you?” Sansa asked. Her big brother threw his arms around her. 

“For you, anything”, he murmured. When Jon had asked her to marry him, Robb had told her that there wasn’t anyone in the world he trusted more than Jon to make her happy. Sansa thought back to all the games they’d played together as children and looked forward to their own offspring doing the same.

-

“I’m so happy for you and Sansa”, Rhae told him. His mother and Sandor had called it a night relatively early, and Sansa had gone for a shower, so Jon decided fate had presented him with an opportunity to have a proper catch up with his sister. 

“Thank you.” Jon couldn’t hide the growing grin on his face. He could never have imagined this level of happiness. “And you? What’s new in your world?”

“I’ve been seeing someone. It’s been a couple of months now and we’re…..I think it might be going somewhere.”

“What’s their name?”

“Daemon Sand. I met him through Uncle Oberyn. Not at work, but at a corporate function thing. I didn’t want to go, but Arianne and Tyene made it clear that _no_ wasn’t an acceptable response.” Privately, Jon agreed with Arianne and Tyene. His sister had been a little absent from the social scene since her Hallowe’en break-up with Jayne Ladybright, her girlfriend of a little over a year.

“What’s he like?”

“Smart and he knows it. But not smarmy. He went to school with Arianne and Tyene.”

“I’d like to meet him sometime. You could bring him next time you come to visit. I don’t know Sansa and I will be travelling too far in the near future.” Rhae laughed. “What?”

“When Ellaria was expecting Loreza, she travelled with Oberyn until about a month before she gave birth. You don’t need to wrap Sansa up in a cotton wool ball, Jon.” He knew that, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t protect Sansa and the baby with everything he had. 

“I know. I just – Dorne is pretty far. I’m not saying we won’t be travelling at all. Just……probably not south of Moat Cailin.” He would like the weekend away they’d missed out on by having everyone over for their anniversary. Sam and Gilly had gone up to Queenscrown for a few days while she was expecting the twins and he knew Robb tended to take Jeyne away for a few days and leave Neddy and then both Neddy and Cate with the grandparents. 

“I liked the pictures you sent me of the new house. I wish – I wish Gamma Rhae was here to see you and Sansa so happy, and to know about her great-grandchild. That would’ve been a first for her.” Both Rhae and Aegon had yet to begin families of their own. 

“I wish she was here too”, Jon agreed, reaching out to squeeze Rhae’s hand. His sister had been incredibly close to their grandmother and had been most affected by her death. Jon was pretty sure that it had been far more responsible for her move to Dorne than a desire to live closer to her mother and the job opportunity suggested by her uncle. 

Rhae’s eyes began to moisten and soon tears were streaming down her cheeks. “When she…….at the end…….she told me one day that she thought the gods had spared her the first time she was ill so that she could meet you. They knew there was a part of her life that was missing and couldn’t bring themselves to take her until you’d been found.”

Jon took in a deep breath. His sister and grandmother had been the greatest gift Rhaegar could ever have given Jon. 

“I wish she was here too”, Jon repeated. “You were – you were closer to her than any of us. I wish that I’d been able to come down to Dragonstone more often and for longer when she was sick.”

“She knew that. She knew you had responsibilities that kept you in White Harbour. A new job and – she was proud of you. Every doctor who poked and prodded at her was told about her grandson the lawyer. Newly qualified and starting at the best firm in White Harbour.”

“I’m so pleased you came. Honestly, Rhae. It means a lot to me.” Aegon’s reaction to finding out he existed and his visit to Ned’s offices had left Jon with an everlasting gratitude for the welcome his sister and grandmother had extended to him. When he and Sansa had married, Rhae had been a bridesmaid. 

“I’m pleased too. Listen, I had to get up pretty early this morning. I stayed at Daemon’s last night – even though I hadn’t meant to – but I had to go home and then get to the airport. I need my beauty sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Jon took the hint. “Night.” He hugged Rhae and went back to the bedroom he shared with Sansa. He’d only just sat down on the edge of the bed when she came out of the en-suite wearing only a towel. She’d dried her hair slightly and left it to hang, loose, around her shoulders. 

She looked stunning. 

“Hey”, Jon coughed. 

“How was Rhae?”

“Good. She’s been seeing someone. Daemon, he’s called. Arianne set them up.”

Sansa laughed. “One of her former admirers?” Jon shrugged and held his arms out towards Sansa. 

“She seems happy. I said she should bring him for a visit. I’m just excited about the fact that she’s smiling again. Come here.” Sansa smelled of lemon wash and something flowery that he guessed came from her shampoo. 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Technically it isn’t midnight yet”, Sansa reminded him as she threaded their fingers. 

“True. But I can be impatient from time to time.” Jon let go of Sansa’s grip and reached up to the knot she’d tied on the towel, letting it fall and pool at her feet. “See, this is much better.”

“Is it, now?”

“It is”, Jon insisted. As much as he’d loved seeing their family again, this was all he’d really wanted all day. Just him and Sansa on their own. He moved from the bed and knelt down in front of Sansa. His hands went to her hips and then they gently caressed the swell of her belly. He was entranced by her at the best of times and it had only increased since the day he’d come home to find her with that test. 

Jon kissed her belly lightly, wondering at the life that grew in there. “I think it’s a girl”, he told her. 

“You thought Neddy was going to be a girl and that Cate was going to be a boy”, Sansa reminded him. 

“Still, I think it’s a girl”, Jon repeated stubbornly. He moved upwards, pressing kisses as his mouth climbed the valley between Sansa’s breasts. “Not that it matters, truly.” Sansa yawned. Jon stood and kissed Sansa’s lips briefly, before taking out a pair of his boxers and an old WHU Law t-shirt. He handed them both to Sansa. “Here. Time for bed.”

“Sleep does sound pretty great about now. It’s been a long day.”

“True. When this is all over, though, when we’ve moved and got settled, I’m taking you somewhere for a couple of nights. Just the two of us. A cottage in the country where we can spend the entire trip in bed.” He stripped off his own clothes and went through to the en-suite to clean his teeth and wash his face. 

When they moved and got settled. Jeyne had told him how helpful their mutual father-in-law had been with flexible, family-friendly working, and not long after they’d shown around the baby’s first picture, Ned had offered Jon the same assistance, impressing on him that he was intending to make this was available to everyone working at the firm from now on – not just those providing him with grandchildren. Jon was looking forward to working with Ned and Robb again.

When he got back through to the bedroom and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and t-shirt, Jon pulled back the covers and lay down next to Sansa. He pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her shoulder while she hummed that sunshine song again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In spite of the insistence his wife is always right, Jon did get something correct - their daughter Lyra was born early in the following year, and was followed four years later (after Sansa had completed her PhD) by her sister Rhaella. They have a younger brother, Brandon. While Jon rose through the ranks at Stark & Sons, Sansa taught part-time at a community college and wrote academic articles and popular books on Northern literary traditions. 
> 
> Robb and Jeyne's third child was also a girl. They named her Alys. She was followed two years later by another daughter, Serena. Robb and Jeyne had decided on one more child, to match the Stark brood, but their final child turned out to be twins, Celia and Osric. A few years after the twins were born, Jeyne finally got round to that teacher training course and loves her new profession. 
> 
> They didn't appear much in the epilogue, but Arya and Gendry took advantage of the birth of Sansa and Jon's daughter, Lyra, to confess to the family that they'd eloped during their New Year trip to Moat Cailin a few weeks earlier.


End file.
